


Thy Saints Surrounded

by jsmp_415



Series: The Saints of South Boston [1]
Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Kidnapping, Prostitution, Singing, Slow Burn, Threesome - F/M/M, Twincest if you squint and tilt your head
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2020-03-20 13:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 39,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18993283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jsmp_415/pseuds/jsmp_415
Summary: After executing Papa Joe Yakavetta, Connor and Murphy MacManus decide to stay in Boston with the help of Paul Smecker, Duffy, Dolly, Greenly, and the Priest of a church in South Boston. Five years after the Yakavetta execution, the MacManus brothers finally move to take out the whole Italian Mafia. When they find a prostitute they hadn't counted on and she sees their faces, they have to decide what to do with her.





	1. A Matter of Life and Death

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place five years after the first movie, completely negating the stated move to New York and the second movie.  
> The brothers DO NOT have sex with each other in this story; the twincest tag is because they are intimate with each other and have zero boundaries.  
> All mistakes are mine, but the ones in the dialogue are intentional to show accents. When the twins speak in different languages, those will be designated by Italics; I wasn't going to plug everything into Google translate and hope it was correct.

Megan McKinney tried to focus on the man in front of her. Pleasing him meant a bigger tip at the end of the weekend and God knew she needed the money. Unfortunately her mind was on money and getting in the mood for a strip tease was difficult. The mafia Don on the bed was not much help. Pappa Gabriel Yakavetta was by no means an attractive man. Already in his late forties, he had less hair than his brother but an even bigger gut. Megan had never met Giuseppe Yakavetta but she had seen pictures of him and God knew, everyone who had Anything to do with the Italian mob had been told the story of how the previous Don had been executed. 

But she pushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on the here and now. She took a sexy step forward, smiled coyly, and started to slowly unbutton her blouse.

“Oh yes, mi bella donna,” Pappa Gabriel crooned and Megan forced herself not to flinch, but opened her blouse to reveal a bra that accented her breasts. She hoped he didn’t recognize it from the previous weekend. She slipped out of her only pair of heels and climbed sensually on the bed.

She had just straddled his lap when they both heard shouts coming from the other side of the house. They both turned to the locked door; the shouts were getting louder every second. She could even hear screams stop abruptly and she felt a cold shiver crawl up her spine. 

“What the fuck?” He said in accented English.

“Oh my God,” she replied in fear. 

He shoved her off the bed and she landed hard, her arm catching her fall. She sat up enough to see the Don pull his pistol from the bedside drawer and walk out the door, which he left wide open. 

She could hear gunshots now and a strange zipping sound rang throughout the house. She was too terrified to walk up to the door, so she slid under the bed and hoped it would be enough. But now she could hear heavily accented voices she didn’t recognize at the end of the hallway.

“Get on yer knees!” One voice cried.

“On yer knees, ye piece of shit,” a second voice yelled.

Then she heard a sound that chilled her to the bone. It was Don Gabriel, yelling in Italian, fear coloring his voice. But soon the two voices drowned him out.

“And shepards we shall be, for thee my Lord, for thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand that our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command. So we shall flow a river forth to Thee and teeming with souls shall it ever be. In nomine Patri, et fili, et Spiritus Sancti.” Two zipping sounds, a loud thud on the floor, and she knew the Don would scream no more.

Megan shoved her fist into her mouth to keep from screaming. Tears were streaming down her face, but they weren’t for the dead mafia boss; they were from fear, pure, consuming fear. The house was silent, she assumed that everyone was dead. How would she get out? Would she get out? She was terrified, but she tried to keep her head. There were people that depended on her. Her survival was a matter of life and death, a life that was much more important than her own. It was that thought that grounded her more than anything else and she steeled her resolve to get out alive.


	2. One Glaring Exception

Connor and Murphy watched as the Don fell to the ground, the two bullets exiting his eyes. 

“Amen,” they said together and exhaled slowly. It was over. Connor looked at his twin and knew that Murphy was also feeling that sense of finality, of closure. He took off his mask and his brother followed suit. They grinned at each other. He put his hand on Murphy’s neck and shook him a bit, in a proud kind of way. 

“Is tha’ all of em, then?” Murph asked.

“Aye, I think so,” Connor answered as he looked around. “Shall we?” He gestured to the front of the house where they left their bag.

Murphy nodded and they grabbed the Don’s ankles and dragged him to the living room, leaving a trail of blood behind them. Once they were back in the room with the dead, they set to work, praying for the souls of the dead men and placing pennies over each of their eyes. Murphy could feel Connor’s mind spinning as he too wondered what the media would make of this one. It had been a year since their last hit. A whole year of meticulously planning, watching the mob’s every move, keeping track of all the rumors they could glean in the hopes that the information would be useful.

When they had executed Joe Yakavetta during his hearing five years ago, the Italian mob bounced back faster than they had hoped. His brother had taken over and things continued on as though nothing had changed, with one glaring exception. Gabriel Yakavetta immediately put the word out that any man who brought him the bodies of Connor and Murphy MacManus would be given five hundred thousand dollars. It was an expensive sword to live with, hanging over their heads; so much so, that Connor and Murphy rarely left the Irish neighborhood. It was the only place in Boston where they were truly safe. Even the cops didn’t pose the threat that Yakavetta did. Not long after they heard about the price on their heads, they decided it was time for the whole organization to be dealt with. But it wasn’t until almost four years later that they were able to start planning for their biggest hit yet. And that plan had taken a full year, their father, one FBI agent, and three Boston cops to finally implement. 

But now it was finally over. All they had to worry about now was the Boston Police and they were easy enough to avoid; not many cops wanted to arrest people who actually made their job easier. Besides, the people in their neighborhood had protected them so far, and Connor and Murphy made sure that they were taken care of in return.

At that thought, Murphy turned to his twin. “Ready ta go through tha house?”

“Aye, let’s do it then.” And they eagerly set off through the Don’s house, looking for money, which was not hard to find; the twins knew all the usual hiding spots and soon their bag was bulging with bound hundred dollar bills.

“Shall we take a look in the bedroom?” Connor asked.

“Aye,” Murphy answered, “Might as weel.” 

They walked back into the bedroom, nudging each other’s shoulders, in good spirits when they entered the room and saw something neither of them suspected.

A girl was crawling out from under the bed. She was young, disheveled, and clearly a prostitute. The twins froze in the doorway just as she stood and lifted her face. When she saw them standing there, guns in their shoulder holsters, faces completely exposed, she screamed. They rushed her and Connor clamped a hand over her mouth and grabbed the back of her neck. In one quick second, they both knew they were in deep shit. Connor felt Murphy’s mood shift and the stress started rolling off him in waves. This girl could ruin everything, she had seen their faces. How could they be so careless? Greenly, Duffy, and Dolly had never mentioned seeing a girl go to Yakavetta’s for the past year, but they still should have completely cleared the house before they took off their masks. Connor waited until he heard Murphy cock his gun; they wouldn’t shoot her but she didn’t need to know that. 

“I’m going ta remove me hand, now, lass,” Connor told her, “if ye scream again we will shoot ye, ye understand?”

She nodded her head vigorously. Connor removed his hand from her mouth, with the other he guided her to the bed. “Now, tell us, what are you doin’ ‘ere?”

“I’m...I’m….the,” she wanted to cooperate with them, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the word prostitute, “I’m the entertainment,” she finished shakily. 

“Is this yer first time here?” Murphy asked her.

“No, she answered, “I’m here every weekend.”

“What!” The twins shouted and she recoiled in fear. 

“Every weekend?” Connor asked, stunned. “Fer how long?”

“Six months, I guess. I get here on Friday and leave on Sunday.” She offered the information without being asked. “Pappa Gabriel started requesting me and he...he...he pays well.” The twins looked at each other in complete disbelief. In their silence, the girl took advantage to plead for her life.

“Please,” her voice was breathless with fear, “please don’t kill me. Please, I won’t tell anyone. I won’t, I swear, please just let me go. I have people who depend on me,” a tear slid down her cheek and she said one more time, “Please.”

“Ye ‘ave a kid?” Murphy assumed, his voice not as harsh.

“No,” she wailed, “but I have family that depends on the money, please, please.”

“We can’t take that chance, lass. Ye’ve seen us,” Connor told her, “and if ye need money, what’s to stop ye from sellin’ a description o’ us.”

She stared at the guns in their hands, and started sobbing. “Please, please, please.”

Connor looked at Murphy and jerked his head toward the living room without saying a word. Murph immediately left the room, knowing what Connor was after. Being twins had always come in handy, but especially since they’d became the Saints of South Boston. They were so attuned to each other, so comfortable with each other, they could almost read each other’s thoughts. They could communicate very effectively without speaking and it was helpful in situations like this. Murphy hurried to the living room, grabbed what was needed from their bag and went back to the bedroom where Connor was standing over the sobbing girl.

“I can’t do it,” Murphy handed the instrument to Connor.

“Please!” The girl wailed. “Please, let me go!”

Connor took it and forced himself to not hesitate. He swept his arm up behind the girl so she couldn’t see, stuck the prongs to her neck, and pressed the button. She dropped forward like a puppet cut from its strings. Murphy caught her before she hit the floor and laid her back on the bed, the burns from the stun gun visible against the pale skin of her neck.

“What do we do now?” Murphy asked his twin.

Connor took a deep breath. “We take her with us,” he said flatly.

“Wha’? Are ye crazy? An’ do wha’ with ‘er?”

“I don’t know, Murph! But we can’ shoot ‘er and we can’ let ‘er go! Wha’ other choice is there, I’d like ta know?”

Murphy wanted to argue, but couldn’t find a way around his brother’s logic, which pissed him off even more. “Da isn’ goin’ ta like it.”

“I don’t like it, Murph! But if ye ‘ave a be’er idea, I’m all ears!”

Murphy pinched the bridge of his nose, craving a cigarette, trying to think, but he couldn’t give Connor what he was asking for. “Fine,” he finally said, “ye’re goin’ ta’ ‘ave ta carry ‘er to tha car. I’ll finish in ‘ere. Meet ye out there in a bit.”

Connor sighed, feeling his twin’s frustration, but he didn’t push his luck. He lifted the girl in his arms and left Murphy to strip the bedroom.

He was settled in the driver’s seat, the girl safely in the back, when Murphy jumped in the passenger seat with the duffel bag.

“Ready?” Connor asked him.

“Aye, let’s go.”


	3. The Saints of South Boston

Megan woke up, confused and with a sore neck. Her surroundings were completely unfamiliar. She was in a simple bedroom, lying in the only bed. She sat up and saw a chest of drawers and three doors. One that was open and obviously led out of the room, one that led to a bathroom, and one that led, she assumed to a closet. There was nothing on the walls, no windows, she could be anywhere. She tried to get out of the bed, but her movements must have been heard. The two Irishmen that killed the men of the Italian mafia strode into the bedroom.

“Ye’re awake,” the man with the lighter hair said.

“Where am I?” Her voice betrayed her fear, but she still demanded to know.

“Ye’re at our apartment,” the darker haired man answered.

“Why?” Her heart started to pound. “If ya think that I’m an easy lay, just cause I’m-”

“That’s not why ye’re here,” the first man said. “We don’t kill women, but ye saw our faces. Ye do know who we are, don’t ye lass,” his tone suggested that she shouldn’t lie.

“You’re the Saints of South Boston,” she answered, her lips trembling.

“And who are ye?” He asked.

“I’m Megan McKinney.”

“Where’re ye from?” The second man asked and she knew her accent was coming out.

“Tennessee,” she whispered.

“What’re ye doin’ all the way up ‘ere?” The first one asked.

She hesitated, not knowing why they wanted to know, afraid to share who she was, but she also couldn’t see a way around it. She decided to give them the reader’s digest version and leave out as much as possible. “I came up here for school. I was at Boston College, but my junior year, I had to drop out. I couldn’t afford a way home, so I started working three different jobs and sending everything I could to my parents, but it still wasn’t enough. I,” she stopped and looked away from the two men, her eyes filling with tears, “I started stripping at this place across town. While I was there, Don Yakavetta came in and offered me the weekend job. The money was too good to pass up. Please, you have to let me go. My family depends on that money. It’s life or death.”

“How much do ye send ‘em?” The light haired man asked.

“Two grand a month,” she whispered. 

“Jesus Christ,” the darker haired man spat. But the other man, the first one, put a steadying hand on his shoulder. He didn’t speak to him but the touch seemed to be enough.

To Megan, he said, “Ye need te wait here. We need to discuss it. But ye should prepare yerself, lass. Tha chances of ye walkin’ outta ‘ere are slim ta nun.”

She sat looking from one man to the other while those words sank in. She felt her chest tighten and the room started spinning. She couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. She drew in long shaky breaths that did little to steady her pounding heart. Her vision became blurry and she swayed where she sat.

“She’s hyperventilatin’” one of the men said. She felt one of them kneel down in front of her and grab her arms.

“Easy, lass, breathe.”

“Please, please let me go,” she begged one last time.

“Weel give ye some time,” the man said. And he let go and in perfect synchronization the two of them turned, walked out the door, and closed it firmly behind them.


	4. Lack of Boundaries

Connor and Murphy walked down the hall to the kitchen where their father was waiting. Connor rubbed his face and Murphy could feel his twins frustration and confusion. They sat down at the worn kitchen table, opposite their dad, Noah.

“Well?” Noah broke the silence.

“She keeps beggin’ us ta let ‘er go,” Murphy said.

“Can ye blame ‘er, boys?”

“No, Da,” Connor looked up, irritated, “but it’s no’ like we can do anythin’ is it? And before ye start on us, I’d like ta know wha’ ye think we shoulda done, cause we didn’ ‘ave a lo’ o’ options at tha time.”

Under the table, Murphy put a calming hand on his brother’s knee. It wasn’t until then that he realized how much the girl had shaken his twin. Connor was the one who could be counted on to keep his head; he was the sensible one, the one with the plans. But Connor’s mind seemed to be running in circles, so it was Murphy who made the decision, the one he knew would be the most difficult, the hardest to live with, but also the only one they could live with. He squeezed Connor’s knee and stood.

Connor and Noah watched as Murphy walked over to their old rotary phone and dialed a number. He waited a moment, dialed a few more numbers, and put the receiver back down on the base. 

“What’re ye doin’ son?” Noah asked.

“Pagin’ Paul to come over. Him and tha boys. We’re gonna need tha help.”

“Wha’ are ye thinkin’ Murph?” Connor asked. It wasn’t a question he usually had to voice. Most of the time he could feel his twin’s thoughts through that connection that served them so well, but now, with his own mind so clouded with confusion and indecision, he had to prompt Murphy to tell him.

“We’re gonna keep ‘er ‘ere.” When Noah started to protest, Murphy cut him off. “If ye’ve a be’er idea, Da, tell us. Otherwise, I don’ wan’ ta hear it.” Their dad closed his mouth and Murphy continued. “We keep ‘er here. She can stay in our bedroom. Weel have Paul and tha boys go get wha’ever she needs, clothes, toothbrush, an air mattress maybe. And then weel turn tha lock around on tha door. Keep ‘er in there while we’re out. She stays here. In return, we send ‘er folks the two grand every month. Tha’s wha she’s worried about innit? We take care of it and she stays here and she doesn’ give us any trouble.”

Connor opened his mouth to tell his brother what a difficult, but brilliant idea that was, when all three of the MacManus men heard a creak in the hallway. They jumped up from their chairs and Connor and Murphy, much faster than Noah, ran to the door of the apartment. 

They caught her just before she could reach it. The twins grabbed her on each side, lifted her and threw her on the couch in the front room of the apartment.

“Jus’ where do ye think yer goin’?” Connor asked threateningly.

“Please, please,” she sobbed, “ya gotta let me go,” her southern accent was even more pronounced when she was crying. “Please. My family needs the money. I swear I won’t tell any-“

“Enough!” Noah’s voice wasn’t loud, but it left no room for argument and rendered the girl speechless. “What’s yer name, lass?”

“Megan,” she whispered.

“Megan,” he knelt down in front of her, and Connor and Murphy stood at his shoulders, “yer not goin’ anywhere and ye’ve got ta accept tha’, dear. Murphy here,” he gestured to the correct twin, “has come up with a plan ta help with yer money troubles, if ye’ll stop tryin’ ta sneak out, ye might be interested ta hear his offer.”

He stood when he saw that she wouldn’t try to escape and moved to let Murphy tell her his plan. They all watched her face as Murphy explained it to her. He had hoped that once he told her that they would send the money to her family, she would be more accepting, but by the time he finished, she still looked wary.

“How on earth do you have that kinda money to just give away?” She asked.

“Yer not really in a position ta be askin’ questions,” Connor told her irritably. “Ye either accept our offer or we shoot ye right now. And yer family loses everythin.’”

“Conn,” Murphy admonished him quietly and Connor could feel his brother’s disappointment at trying to scare the girl. Connor took a deep breath and tried to pull from his brother’s confidence. It helped to steady him and it gave him pause to realize that he had been an ass to a very frightened young girl.

“I’m sorry, lass,” Connor turned back to her, “ye’ve put us in a right mess here. Will ye, please, accept our offer? Weel take care of tha money, if ye agree to stay here.”

“But I have nothing with me. None of my clothes. Where will I sleep?”

“Weel work out tha details soon,” Murphy answered her. 

“I don’t even know you’re names,” she said as though she were trying to come up with a last ditch effort at talking them out of keeping her.

The twins looked at each other in shock. Murphy could feel Connor’s exhaustion and shame. It flooded his mind and it matched his own feelings. They knelt down in front if her at the same time and he broke the silence.

“I’m Murphy MacManus. This is me twin brother, Connor,” Connor nodded, “and our Da, Noah,” Noah smile at her.

“The Saints of South Boston,” she said again with a whisper.

“Aye,” Connor agreed. “And ye need to always remember that, lass. Yer a huge liability fer us, yer not from south Boston, and ye know who we are. We need ye to stay here. Do ye understand? Did ye get it of yer system, trying to escape?”

His voice was soft, calming. And Murphy watched in amazement as Megan nodded. It was impossible to not respond when Connor was tender like that. And it made him ache for the contact they usually shared after a hit, something they hadn’t found a moment to have since they’d been home. 

The moment drew out and no one moved, no one spoke. Only Megan’s shuddering breaths could be heard until the telephone rang. Noah walked away from his sons and their “guest” to answer it.

The twins listened intently to the one sided conversation. It was quick and Noah didn’t say much. They soon heard the receiver being replaced and Noah walked back into the room.

“Tha’ was Paul. They just arrived at Yakavetta’s house. They need ta stay until it’s been processed. It may be mornin’ before they can get here. Ye boys might as weel take ‘er with ye and get some rest. I’ll sleep out here tonight.”

Connor and Murphy nodded and turned to walk out of the room, but Megan didn’t stand to follow. They both turned and saw her staring off into space, most likely feeling the surrealness of her situation. They looked at each other and nodded, walked back over to her. Connor grabbed her left arm while Murphy grabbed her right. They lifted her and half carried, half walked her back to their room. They sat her on the bed and Connor closed and locked the bedroom door.

“Ye can sleep in the bed tonight, lass,” Murphy said. “Connor and I will take the floor. Tha bathroom is right ‘ere. Do ye need it?” He had to ask her. He didn’t want to embrace his twin in front of her but his need was becoming impossible to ignore. The only solution was the bathroom.

Thankfully Megan shook her head.

“Weel only be a few minutes,” Connor told her, feeling his brother’s need and his own. “Don’t leave tha bedroom. If ye try, Da is in the living room and he’s a light sleeper,” his tone finished in a warning. And they left her staring at the wall. Connor knew her brain had shut down to try to protect itself from the shock and decided Murphy’s need was greater than hers; she could wait, he and Murphy couldn’t. He followed his twin into the spacious bathroom and closed and locked the door behind him. He turned in time to catch Murphy as he fell into Connor’s arms.

“Murph-“

“I know, ‘m sorry, Conn. We just-“

“Never wait this long,” Connor finished softly, touching Murphy’s head, feeling his soft hair under his fingertips. “Are ye alright, Murph?”

He felt Murphy breathe into his chest. “Aye,” he answered, “I am now.”

It was something they had needed since becoming the Saints of South Boston. They played a very dangerous game, executing mafiosos, dodging the police, hiding in plain sight. It brought a lot of stress to their lives. It was soon clear that the only thing that helped calm them both down was each other. Being in each other’s presence wasn’t enough; they had to touch, to hold each other. There had been times in the past that even a simple hug wasn’t enough. Connor leaned down and kissed the top of Murphy’s head.

“What do you need, brother?” Connor asked in Irish.

“Will it be safe to shower together?” Murphy asked in the same language.

“Aye,” Connor answered in English. “Da’s on the couch, beesides, I don’ think she’ll be able move for a lil’ while.” Murphy looked up at his brother with apologetic eyes. “None of tha’,” Connor told his brother, feeling Murphy’s guilt. He leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Go turn on tha shower, will ye?” Murphy did as his brother asked and then stripped, Connor did the same and then gestured for Murphy to get in first. He followed closely behind and wrapped his arms around his twin, so that Murphy’s back was touching his chest. “I’ve gotcha Murph. I’m sorry.”

“S’not yer fault, Conn.”

“Aye, it is. We shoulda taken a moment before she woke up.”

Murphy leaned his head back into Connor’s shoulder, breathing deep and calming down in his brother’s arms. Connor tightened his hold on Murphy, a physical manifestation of their emotional and mental connection. They let the water wash over their bodies, their minds wandering. After the events that pushed them into this life, Connor and Murphy’s fear of losing each other had been more than they could bear. And they discovered that holding each other, touching each other, grounded them after putting their lives in jeopardy. They had always been closer than most regular brothers. They acknowledged that since sharing a womb, their boundaries as brothers were different. They were comfortable with each other in every way. Brothers, best friends, soulmates, they were everything to each other. And they had heard the rumors, the whispers, especially the past five years from the scumbags they targeted. Faggots, queers, incest, twincest, they had heard it all, but they didn’t give a fuck. They were there for each other. Holding each other in the shower like this, bare to each other, touching skin to skin, it strengthened their connection and helped them to appreciate their livelihood and their brotherhood. It was what was needed and they no longer questioned it. 

Connor loosened his hold and Murphy turned around and embraced him, their chests together. Connor could feel Murphy’s cock swell at the touch of skin. This too was something they simply accepted. They had made vows long ago to put each other first and because of that, the right woman had not come along yet, a woman who understood that they needed each other first. There had been women who had shown interest, who made it clear they were interested in the kink of two men. But Connor and Murphy took sex much more seriously than a one night stand. Unfortunately that did mean they hadn’t had sex for about thirteen years. Connor felt his own cock grow in response to Murphy’s. They had never gone too far with each other, but only just. It wasn’t something they talked about but it was in the back of their minds, along with the voice that said it was a mortal sin. It was a part of their lack of boundaries and they didn’t comment on it. They just held each other until they could feel their heartbeats slow.

“Ye ready, Murph?”

“Aye. I love ye, Conn.”

“I love ye too, Murphy.” They looked each other in the eye, felt their connection, strong and tangible. They pulled apart and Murphy shut the water off. They got out and dried off before they remembered, they hadn’t brought clean clothes in with them. They looked at each other, minds turning. They decided together and in perfect sync, they pulled on their jeans and nothing else. Connor walked out first with Murphy closely behind. 

They found Megan just as they left her, sitting on the bed staring at the wall. They looked at each other, Connor’s face a mask of concern. They walked up to her but she still didn’t move.

“Megan,” Connor tried to get her attention. “Can ye hear me, lass?” When she didn’t respond Connor looked at Murphy, only to find his twin looking at the girl. He tried to feel what Murphy was feeling but everything was jumbled, confused. “Murph?”

Murphy finally looked up and Connor saw fear and regret in his brother’s face.

“Murph!” He exclaimed, their connection full of uncertainty.

“Wha’ if we made a mistake?”

“What are ye talkin’ about?”

“This plan, keepin’ ‘er here?”

“Ye mean yer plan?” Connor asked.

“Aye,” Murphy answered and it all clicked into place for Connor. Since it had been Murphy’s plan to keep her, he felt responsible for Megan’s present state which was definitely not a positive one. 

Connor walked to his twin and put a hand on his arm. “Murphy, yer plan was be’er than anythin’ I coulda come up with. This es a good plan. She’s gonna adjust, it’s jus’ gonna take some time.” Murphy nodded but Connor could tell that he wasn’t thoroughly satisfied and the only way he would be was if Megan would finally snap out of her funk. So Connor would do everything he could to reassure his brother. He went back over to Megan and knelt in front of her once more. “Lass, can ye at least look at me?” When her eyes finally slid to his, he exhaled. “Good. Do ye think ye can sleep? Et’s late, ye’ve got to be exhausted.”

“I don’t have anything to wear,” she whispered.

“Ye can wear something of ours.” He turned his head to look at his brother. “Will ye get her a tshirt and a pair of yer gym shorts?”

“Aye,” Murphy went to the chest of drawers and opened the one that was second to the top. He found a grey tshirt and shut the drawer, then he opened the drawer directly underneath it. He found his stack of shorts, which were a size smaller than Connor’s. They were similarly sized but Connor had more muscle at the waist than he did; it always rankled him a bit to be the smaller twin. But he brought the clothes over to their “guest” and helped Connor help her to her feet.

“Ye jus’ go on inta the bathroom there and change,” Connor told her as they pushed her to the door. “Maybe ye’ll feel be’er if ye wash up a bit. Come back out and weel get ye set up in the bed.” She closed the door on her own, which the twins took as a good sign and used the opportunity to make their pallet in front of the door. They dug the spare blankets out of the closet and found some extra pillows. They spread the blankets in front of the door and had just thrown the spare pillows down when the bathroom door reopened.

Megan walked out with her eyes downcast, wringing her hands. Her face was scrubbed clean; the ruined makeup from earlier was completely gone. She must have used their comb to get the tangles out of her hair and it was finally out of her face. It came down to her shoulders in soft, fluffy waves: Connor noticed that it was the exact color of Murphy’s and he wondered if it was the same texture, which was as soft as down feathers. 

She looked up at them with questions in her eyes and the brothers finally saw the color of her eyes without all of the makeup in the way. The were blue, a shocking blue, Murphy noticed. She might as well have pulled them from his twin’s head and put them in her own. He couldn’t believe how similar her eyes were to their’s. 

They didn’t realize they were staring at her until she flushed, the red color rapidly spreading from her face to her neck. Connor snapped out of his stupor first.

“Are ye ready to sleep now lass?”

She nodded. Connor stepped up to the bed and patted it. “Ye can sleep here till we get ye a proper mattress.” 

She stepped up to the king sized bed and grabbed the thick blanket. “Isn’t this your bed?” She asked, her eyes flitting from Connor to Murphy.

“Aye,” Connor answered her, “but weel be perfectly fine on tha floor. Don’t ye worry about us. Go on then, lass, up ye get.”

He watched as she crawled into the bed and under the blankets. She sank into the pillows and seemed to release the longest held breath. She looked comfortable, she looked calm. Connor turned to his brother and saw the tension leave Murphy like steam from a boiling pot.

“Alright, I’m goin’ ta turn the lights out. Murph and I are right in front of the door. If ye need anything ye just wake us up, alright?”

“Ok,” she whispered, holding the covers up to her chest. Murphy went to the chest of drawers once again and pulled out some boxers and shorts for them just as Connor turned out the lights. Murphy handed Connor his clothes and they undressed and dressed in the dark. They could hear the girl settling down into the bed and they did the same but on the floor. It wasn’t comfortable but at least they were together and showing some chivalry.

Murphy nudged Connor’s arm when he felt his pride at their gentlemanly behavior. Connor nudged back in playful fashion and he felt Murphy’s happiness through their connection. 

The girl would be alright, they were alive, and whatever the next day brought them, they would face together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like this was a good place to end the kickoff of this story. Posting schedule will be Mondays and Thursdays. I'm still writing this so I have no idea yet how many chapters it will be. I love comments and feedback, but please be kind; I've been working on this for about 5 years and it's kinda my baby.
> 
> Also, I know I said I would put the different languages in Italics but for some reason, I can't get it to copy and paste that way from my Google Docs. Hopefully I'll figure it out before Thursday.


	5. The Meaning of Those Words

When Megan woke up in the morning, she didn’t remember right away what had happened the night before. All she knew was that she was in an extremely comfortable bed, surrounded by warm blankets that smelled like Irish Spring.

But all too soon her memories caught up with her and she opened her eyes and found herself in the bedroom of the MacManus brothers. She sat up slowly, looking for the twins, but she was alone; the door to the hallway was open. She slid out of the bed and went to the bathroom as quietly as possible. Once she was finished, she looked at herself in the mirror. The shirt was too big and tried to hang off her shoulders, but it was comfortable. It was a faded grey and had obviously been worn many times. The shorts were also too big. They were black mesh but thankfully had a drawstring that she tied as tight as possible. The colors seemed stark against her pale skin; she thought her reflection even looked a bit sallow in the mirror, her coloring not quite right. Her hair was a mess but the comb she had found the night before did no good. She sighed as her stomach grumbled. She couldn’t remember when she ate last and as much as she hated to do it, she knew she needed to find the brothers and ask for food.

She walked out of the bedroom cautiously and started down the hall when she heard voices ahead of her. She followed them and found herself at the front of the apartment. 

She had been in the living room, which was to her right, the night before, but she hadn’t noticed the dining table to the left of the door or the kitchen just beyond that. 

Sitting at the table, were all three MacManus men and they looked up when they heard her footsteps. None of them spoke at first and she felt like a rabbit caught in a trap. She crossed her arms over her chest, painfully aware that she wore no bra, and feeling utterly exposed. 

It was Noah that recovered first and his gruff voice broke the silence. “G’morning, lass. Are ye hungry?” She nodded. “Well come on en. Ye can sit here next te me,” he patted the only empty chair at the table. She sat but still didn’t speak; her throat suddenly felt like it was made of sandpaper.

“Would ye like somethin’ to drink?” Noah moved to stand and she finally found her voice, prompted mostly by southern raising and hospitality.

“I can get it,” she told him.

“Nonsense, ye sit right here,” he stood and went to the kitchen. “We have juice and milk and coffee.”

“What kind of juice?” Megan asked.

“Grapefruit,” Connor was the one to answer and she looked at him in time to see him roll his eyes. 

“Milk, then, please,” Megan smiled smally. 

Noah returned a few moments later with a paper plate piled high with food and a cup of milk and sat them in front of her.

“What do we ‘ave ta do to get tha’ kind of service?” Murphy snickered and Connor elbowed him in the ribs.

“Ye two can fix yer own plates,” Noah rolled his eyes just as Connor had only moments before and Megan almost laughed watching the exchanges between father and sons. The two brothers got up and fixed their plates and brought them back just as Megan took a sip of her milk.

She pulled back after that sip in shock. “Whole milk,” she breathed out in pure bliss. The brothers looked up in time to watch her down the entire glass. “Y’all have whole milk.”

“Aye?,” Connor said, not sure why it mattered so much. 

“I haven’t had whole milk in so long.”

“Why not?” Murphy was the one who’s curiosity got the better of them.

“Too many calories,” Megan whispered, losing the color in her face. The men stopped what they were doing as the meaning of those words sank in. She hadn’t had a sip of milk since she started stripping and just as predicted, the weight practically fell off of her; no one likes a fat stripper, she heard the words in her head for the thousandth time. 

Once again, Noah recovered first, “Well here ye can have as much as ye like, m’dear. Another?”

She looked up at him, “Oh no, please, I can get it.” This time Noah let her and as she walked to the refrigerator and filled her glass, she could almost hear the silent conversation the three of them were having at the table. 

But once she had sat down, they were back to normal and she followed their example and ate her take out breakfast. The group ate in silence for some time, but to Megan it wasn’t an uncomfortable one, they were just all focused on their food. She had eaten almost half of her plate when she started to slow down and notice the men in front of her.

Connor and Murphy were sitting opposite her and Noah and whereas she could hardly tell they were brothers last night, now she could see how they were fraternal twins. 

Connor had lighter hair and it stood up in all directions. Murphy’s hair was as dark as her own and lay flat on his head. She guessed they were probably the same height; Connor looked a little more muscular. But they had the same nose and same jaw line, even if Murphy kept his clean shaven and Connor seemed to prefer a light scruff. And Their eyes were the same bright blue. As blue as mine, she thought, puzzled. She had rarely seen so many people in one room with the same shade of blue eyes. 

But as she watched the brothers she started to notice something else. They were almost finished with their food and would take bites at exactly the same time. They would stop for a drink and gulp the same amount and as Connor finished off his plate, he reached for Murphy’s unfinished one.

“Are ye goin’ ta-“ he started.

“Take et, ye fuckin’ pig,” Murphy finished with a chuckle and they moved together: Connor picking up his plate, Murphy moving his in front of his brother and then taking   
Connor’s plate from his hand and setting it in front of himself. All in one fluid motion. It was like watching a perfectly choreographed dance and she didn’t realize her mouth was open until Noah chuckled.

“I never ge’ tired of seein’ someone watch ye two together for the first time.”

The twins stopped moving, Connor was in mid bite and Murphy asked, “What?”

Noah gestured to Megan, whose mouth was still open. She closed it quickly, making a little popping sound. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled. 

Noah laughed again, “Nothin’ to be sorry fer, lass. Connor and Murphy don’t even realize they’re doin’ anythin’ strange. Yer likely never ta see two brothers who’er closer than they are.”

Megan opened her mouth to reply, but a knock on the door stopped her. 

“That’ll be Paul and the boys,” Connor said as he stood up and opened the door.

Megan couldn’t see around Connor’s frame but she heard him. “Jesus Christ, ye all look like shit.”

“Well we were up all night cleaning up your mess,” a gravelly, male voice replied. “And you left us too many questions…” 

In the middle of the stranger’s sentence, Connor moved aside to let him in and Megan saw four men standing in the door, all disheveled and bleary eyed. The man who was speaking was standing in front of the other three, he had hair that reached his chin but still looking very official in his rumpled suit. When his eyes rested on Megan, he changed the direction of his words.

“...that I suppose you’re about to give us the answers to.”

Connor and Murphy helped Megan to the living room where they introduced her to Paul Smecker the FBI agent who had been assigned the MacManus investigation while secretly aiding and abetting his targets. She also met Detectives Robert Dolly, Brian Duffy, and David Greenly, members of the Boston PD who also helped the Saints in their off time. Together, Megan and the twins explained to the four officers what had happened and began discussing how they could explain certain metaphorical holes left at the scene, like Megan’s red high heels. She felt that she didn’t have to participate in that part of the conversation so she stayed quiet and let her mind wander.

The finality of her situation started to sink in and she began to wonder what would become of her. After explaining their plan to her last night, Megan felt herself shut down before she went into panic mode, but now questions began to surface. Where would they keep her? What would she do? Would they really send the money to her parents, like they said they would? What about all her things? These questions spun round and round in her head and she barely heard Connor’s voice when he tried to get her attention.

“Megan? Lass?” Her eyes snapped to him. “Murph and I are goin’ ta Mass. Paul, here,” he patted the agent’s shoulder, “is gonna talk to ye about everythin that ye need.” To Paul he said, “Da has all the money ye need. Don’t worry about the expense. Get everything she needs or wants.” Murphy nodded enthusiastically behind him. She was beginning to understand that Connor was the mouthpiece between the two of them, but he never seemed to go against his twin’s wishes. Connor turned back to Megan. “After the boys leave, Da’s gonna stay here, so ye have access to the whole apartment. But yer not ta leave, do ye understand?”

She nodded, but couldn’t say anything. Connor seemed to understand that she couldn’t form words at the moment and her silent agreement was enough.

“Boys, give her and Paul some privacy to talk. Murph?” And he and Murphy walked to the door, grabbed their jackets and rosaries Megan hadn’t noticed before that were hanging by the door. And with a final nod to her, they left.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go back here and talk,” Paul gestured her to the back of the apartment. The detectives stood to follow, but he turned back to them, “Uh, just Megan. The three of you stay here,” he told them in exasperation. 

She led the way to the bedroom but her heart pounded when he closed the door behind the two of them. Her fear must have been all over her face, because Paul gave her a reassuring smile.

“I promise you, Megan, you’re safe with me. And with the MacManus brothers for that matter. How are you, really?”

“I don’t know,” she exhaled, starting to shake.

“C’mhere,” he opened his arms and she fell into them and sobbed. He held her as long as the tears flowed and for the first time in the past twenty four hours she finally felt at peace. When she had cried out all her tears, she pulled away from him.

“Thanks,” she sniffed. 

“No problem, sweetheart,” he called her again, but then his voice became very business like. “Now, have you given any thought to all the things you’d need?”

“No,” she shook her head, “I guess I’m finally realizing that they’re not going to let me go.”

“I’m afraid not,” he told her, “and they have a lot of reasons not to. I know they told you that they don’t trust you to not go to the police but it’s more than that. You’re in danger too.”

“Me?”

“Yep. By now, all the cops involved in this investigation know that there was a girl at that scene last night, which means all the dirty cops involved with every mob in this city will have passed that information on to their bosses. Those mafia bosses would do anything for a scrap of information about the Saints of South Boston. Those of us who help protect Connor and Murphy have to tread lightly. But I’ll tell you one thing, every Irish man and woman in this neighborhood would stand between the brothers and a bullet and that speaks more to their character than anything else could. You’ll be safe here, but you have to stay here. And I’ll do everything I can to make it more comfortable for you. I promise. Now,” he pulled a pad and a pen from his jacket pocket, “what do you need?”

It took another hour for Megan to think of everything that she needed. Toothbrush, shampoo, conditioner, all the necessary toiletries. When they started talking about pads and tampons, and bras and panties Megan turned beet red and Paul stopped pressing her.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed with me,” he told her. “I’m gay and spend half my weekends dressing in drag. I have several 34C’s in my drawer,” he winked at her.  
She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth and from then on, they were more comfortable with each other. He started asking her more personal questions, like what her major at BC was when he learned she had been in college for a while. 

“It was English Lit,” she told him.

“So you like to read?”

“Maybe a little too much,” she admitted.

“I’ll go get you some books. Any particular favorites?”

She thanked him and rattled off a list faster than he could write. When they had almost wrapped up, she had to ask the one thing she knew she shouldn’t.

“Agent Smecker?”

“Call me Paul.” He told her.

“Paul? You said that no one knows yet who I am?”

“Yes…”

“Would it be safe for you to go to my apartment? There’s one thing there that I can’t bear to leave behind. And maybe leave a note for my roommate? She knew where I was, I just want her to know that I’m alive and that I won’t be coming back. You can even read it, if you’d like.”

“I think I can do that,” he agreed. She gave him the address, the description of her most prized possession, and wrote out the note for her roommate and they were finally done. As the FBI agent left, taking the detectives with him, Megan was left alone with Noah. He told her that Connor and Murphy would most likely be back sometime late that afternoon and that he offered to stay with her so that she didn’t have to stay locked up on her very first day. She thanked the old man and they settled down for a quiet afternoon. As they watched the Sunday afternoon football games, Megan did her best to remind herself that this wouldn’t last, that the next day she would be left alone, locked in a room for the whole day. Paul had promised to be back that evening with everything she needed, but she couldn’t help thinking _What will I do if he’s not?_


	6. Realize What You're Doing

Connor and Murphy had spent the morning at Mass, hidden in the shadows that Father MacDonald had long ago directed them to, out of sight to any other church goers. It was just one of the many ways that their neighborhood had protected them for the past five years. The afternoon was spent following Father MacDonald through that neighborhood, helping other parishioners who needed anything in their home fixed, or needed money for bills, or just generally needed help. It was how Connor and Murphy spent every Sunday afternoon since finding Father MacDonald and confessing to him for their sins of murder. For while they did know that God had sent them to carry out His justice, the Bible still said _Thou shalt not kill_. After confessing to Father MacDonald the first time, he told them to come back the next Sunday and he would pray for guidance during the week. When they did as he asked, he told them that he could not deny their calling from God, but if they followed the calling to rid the world of evil men, they should also follow the calling to help the world’s good men. And thus their penance began. First, they labored to fix the church. Once that was finished, Father MacDonald took them to a soup kitchen that needed its own maintenance. And so it continued. Every Sunday afternoon, Connor and Murphy followed the priest’s instructions, trusting him completely to keep them safe. And he never failed; if they couldn’t work around trusted men, the priest made sure they worked when no one else was there.

That afternoon they helped a woman, whose husband was bedridden, repair the back porch so her children could play outside safely. It had been exhausting, complicated work, the kind that occupied the mind as well as the body. When they finished, Father MacDonald thanked them, told them he would see them at morning Mass on the morrow and they walked home, the sun setting to the left of them. 

As they walked home, Connor could feel Murphy’s mind buzzing beside him. They hadn’t talked about their new guest all day but there was no doubt that both of their minds were on her now.

“Yer thinking about Megan, aren’t ye?” Connor asked his twin.

“Aye,” Murphy affirmed. “Do ye think Paul and tha boys were able te get everythin’?”

“I hope so. If not, I’m not lookin’ forward ta sleeping on tha floor again.”

After that, they continued the walk home in silence, walking a little more quickly than usual. When they finally climbed the four flights of stairs to their apartment they opened the door to the most unusual sight. Megan and their father were sitting on the couch, watching the tv. Granted, they were on completely opposite ends, the whole couch was basically between them, but Noah seemed comfortable enough and when they opened the door they heard Megan exclaim, “Touchdown! Yes!”

When she realized the brothers were in the door, she blushed again. She blushes an awful lot for a prostitute, Connor thought and he felt Murphy’s wonderment and knew he was thinking the same thing.

“Who’s playing?” Connor asked, politely.

“The Patriots and the Cardinals,” she answered. “God, I missed football,” the last bit she said quietly, not necessarily for their ears, but they heard it anyway.

Living in Boston for so long, they’d be idiots to not know the Patriots, but also not knowing football very well, they had no idea who the Cardinals were. They just shrugged off their black peacoats and took off their rosaries. Murphy was aware that Megan was watching their movements; the rosaries seemed to surprise her more than anything but she didn’t comment on it.

“There’s food in tha kitchen, boys,” Noah informed them and they scrambled into the small space and promptly began shoving ridiculous amounts of food into their mouths. A small scuffle broke out over who was to get the last piece of bread and Connor won, but took pity on his brother and halved it. 

There was a knock on the door as they walked back to the livingroom and Murphy looked through the peephole before opening the door. 

“Well, boys, have fun shoppin’ today?” Murphy laughed and Connor looked around his brother to see the three detectives all carrying shopping bags.

“Shut the fuck up,” Greenly pushed a bag into Murphy’s chest and shoved his way inside.

“Wha’s wrong, Green Beans?” Connor teased. “Not yer cup o’ tea?” He moved aside to let the other two in and finally saw Paul at the very back.

“Why don’t you two make yourselves useful and start unloading, There’s several more bags and the mattress.” To Dolly, Duffy, and Greenly, he said, “All the way to the back boys, just dumped it all on the bed.” He carried one large reusable bag, so Connor and Murphy couldn’t see what was in it. They started to head out the door when they heard Paul say, “C’mon sweetheart, let’s go through all this,” and hurried footsteps that they assumed were Megan’s. 

The brothers walked quickly down the stairs and saw Duffy’s pickup parked as close to the building as possible. In the bed was a brand new twin sized mattress. Murphy looked at Connor and they wordlessly climbed up and hauled it out of the truck and then up the stairs. They met the trio on the way down and goodnaturedly ribbed Greenly as he complained again. Thanks to their combined strength, they had the mattress up the stairs and into the apartment very quickly. They took it to their room and walked in on Paul showing Megan everything that they had bought that day. When they had the mattress settled in the corner, they took a look at the bags that littered their bed.

There were a lot of things they expected: clothes, toiletries, a few pairs of shoes, a pack of bedsheets. But there were also things that surprised Connor and Murphy, like the huge stack of books Paul was pulling out of a bag.

“Oh my god!” Megan exclaimed, almost sounding like a kid at Christmas. “You got all of them!”

“And then some,” Paul told her. “You’ll probably go through those quickly. Just write down what you want when you’ve finished and the boys here,” he nodded to the twins, “will get it to me. And speaking of writing, I got you these too.” He handed her two spiral bound notebooks. “I’ve never met an English Lit major who also didn’t like to write.” Megan was speechless; Connor and Murphy could see the tears in her eyes at Paul’s thoughtfulness. About that time, the detectives brought in the last of the bags, one of which was a black garbage bag. Paul told her about what else was in each bag, including a bag of “unmentionables” that made Megan blush but they had no idea why. “Now,” he clapped his hands together and grabbed the black garbage bag, “I was able to get to your apartment.” This statement got Megan’s attention immediately and she looked up at him expectantly. He nodded and ripped open the bag. Inside was an old, blue basket with a lid. Connor and Murphy weren’t sure what it was at first.

“Oh, Paul,” Megan choked out, “Thank you. Thank you.”

“Look under it,” he instructed her. She did and her gasp was heard throughout the room. The brothers looked over her shoulder and saw three picture frames. One had Megan as a little girl, her blue eyes unmistakeable, with a couple that had to be her grandparents. The second was of Megan, sitting behind a birthday cake, being hugged by her parents. The third, Megan as a teenager, smiling hugely and holding a baby with a shock of dark hair. This last one she picked up, almost reverently. Connor and Murphy could see her hands shaking.

“How did you know?”

“I’m a detective,” Paul shrugged. “I make a living noticing where people put things. I thought you might like to have them.”

At that, she flung her arms around the older man and hugged him tightly. “I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am,” she told him.

Connor and Murphy watched the whole exchange with pangs of jealousy jumping between them. She was happy, but they hadn’t made it happen. Connor looked at his brother, who had his brow furrowed. Confusion swelled and they both shook their heads. Why should it matter who makes her happy? As long as she agrees to stay there, why should they care?

“Alright,” Paul was saying, bringing Connor and Murphy out of their strange thoughts, “I’ve got to go. I trust you’ll be alright, now?”

“I will, thank you.”

“You call me if you need anything.” Megan nodded. “Boys,” Paul said to Connor and Murphy, “follow me out.”

They did as they were told and he led them out of the apartment but stopped just outside of the door, which he shut to give them privacy.

“I hope the two of you realize what you’re doing. You didn’t pick up some sleazy prostitute, you have an educated woman locked away in your room right now.” The twins looked surprised at his sudden vehemence. “That girl had a reason for going into the business and whatever it was, it had nothing to do with her own wants or needs. Now listen and listen good. You make sure to take care of her. Respect her privacy, but don’t be idiots. There’s boxes of pads and tampons,” the twins flinched at those words and Paul rolled his eyes, “pay attention to it. She won’t feel comfortable asking for more. If it looks low, grow a fucking pair and buy her more. You just buy the same box over and over. Keep her entertained. She loves to read and write and that blue basket was her grandmother’s sewing box. Give her things to do with her hands. Anything you can’t get yourselves call me or Duffy. Do you understand?”

“Yea Paul, we get it,” Connor put his hands up in surrender.

Smecker shook his head, “No I don’t think you do yet, but you will.” And with that, he walked away, leaving them shocked at the tongue lashing he had managed to convey when giving them instructions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter explains how the twins stayed safely in Boston. I tried to make it as realistic as possible, but I also wanted to stay true to my plot line.


	7. Trying to Make this Easier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to go ahead and post the next chapter today too, but it may be later before I can get to it.

Megan took advantage of the alone time and hid her female products in the cabinet under the bathroom sink. Then she put the shampoo, conditioner, body wash, toothpaste and brush, hair brush, and blow dryer in a corner of the empty countertop, claiming it as hers. She hoped the twins wouldn’t mind, but she suddenly became nervous, self conscious, and just a little bit scared. Where would she put everything? How was this going to work? She had never lived with one man before, let alone three, other than family. And sharing a single room with two men was a daunting idea. So she tried to do what she did best, which was organize.

She started pulling all the clothes out of bags, sorting them based on what they were: shirts in one pile, pants and shorts in another. Paul had even thought to get her some sleep shirts, those went into their own pile. She put the shoes on the floor, smiling at the pink house shoes. So far, everything seemed to be spot on with sizes. She had been very specific with that but She wondered if Paul paid more attention to her body when they were in here earlier.

She wanted to start putting her clothes up, but she also didn’t want to go through the brother’s belongings. She was puzzling over her conundrum when, as though she had conjured them with her thoughts, Connor and Murphy hesitantly walked through the door.

They must have seen the confusion on her face, because Connor asked, “Everythin’ alright lass?”

“Um….I don’t know…..where I should put,” she couldn’t finish but gestured to all the items on the bed. 

She watched them exchange a look and Murphy nodded. He went to the chest of drawers and cleaned out the middle drawer, shoved the items into the top drawer and then went to the closet. She watched as he found some empty hangers and shoved aside what few hanging clothes he and Connor had.

“Take as much room as ye need,” Murphy told her. 

“We'll give ye some privacy,” Connor said and they turned to leave but Megan stopped them.

“Wait!” They turned back to her and Megan felt her breath hitch at the intensity of their blue eyes. She blinked to come back to her senses and said, “Thank you. For trying to make this…..easier.”

“Yer welcome, lass,” Connor answered and Murphy nodded but neither of them moved. It was like they could sense she had something else to say.

She just didn’t know how to say it. “I guess...I, um…” she couldn’t get the words out. She felt horrible for being so presumptuous but they had agreed and tomorrow was Monday. “What do we do….about….shit.”

Connor had a look of understanding and took pity on her. “How do you normally send yer family the money?”

She breathed out her relief and shock. Was she that easy to read? “I send a five hundred dollar money order to them every Monday.”

Murphy shrugged and Connor said, “That’s easy enough. We'll stop by on our way to Mass in the morning. And we'll bring ye a receipt, so ye can know for certain we’ve kept our word.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, “you have no idea how grateful I am,” she clutched her hands over her heart, physically showing her relief and gratitude. After everything that had happened, she could at least be confident in knowing that her family, that her brother was taken care of. 

“Yer welcome lass. If ye need anything, don’t hesitate to ask us, yeah?”

She nodded and they turned again but she had one last thought and stopped them once more.

“Is there a washer and dryer I can use?”

“Aye,” Murphy answered, just as Connor said:

“It’s in the pantry in the kitchen. Ye can use whatever ye need lass. Weel be in the living room with Da, if ye need us. Do what ye need to do.” And she finally let them go. 

Megan gathered up everything that was in a sealed package, the sheets and quilt set, the panties and socks, and put them on her new bare mattress. Everything else she ripped the tags off and and carried them in a bundle to the kitchen. She could feel the men’s eyes on her as she walked silently through the living room and then found the pantry Connor told her about. She threw all her new clothes in, but it wasn’t enough to fill the load. She looked around and found a laundry basket that was full of unmistakably dirty clothes. She assumed they were Connor and Murphy’s and went through each item before she threw it on top of her own in the machine. When it could hold no more, she found the half full jug of laundry detergent and started it. It was getting late but she hoped they would let her stay up long enough to put the clothes in the dryer. Finally, she went back to the bedroom to make up her bed and organize her “entertainment” for the days to come.


	8. More than Simply Beautiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As stated before, whenever Connor and Murphy speak a different language it's in Italics.

Connor and Murphy tried to pay attention to what their Da was watching on tv but they were too distracted. And when Megan walked through the apartment to the laundry room she had asked about, carrying an arm full of clothes, Connor and Murphy couldn’t help but follow her movements. If she realized they were watching her, she didn’t show it and when she rounded the corner out of sight, they turned their eyes back to the television. Noah noticed them noticing her and began a conversation in Irish, a tactic used so that the girl couldn’t understand the exchange.

_“She’s a lovely little lass,”_ their father observed in their native tongue. The twins didn’t reply. _“Little odd at times.”_

This statement brought a question from Murphy, _“What do you mean?”_

_“I mean,”_ Noah continued in Irish, _“she doesn’t act like a prostitute. She doesn’t flaunt her body in front of the two of you. She’s quiet and reserved, that is until I turned on the football game. I could tell she was holding herself back when she would cheer. I can tell she gets scared sometimes but for the most part, she seems somewhat comfortable here. She asked me about your movie collection and if we had any books. She wasn’t meant to live the life of a….lady of the night,”_ he chose his final words carefully, not wanting to call her a prostitute again, when she clearly was meant for better things in this life.

_“She did tell us that she had been at Boston College, but that she had to drop out,”_ Murphy offered, still in Irish. 

_“Aye,”_ Connor agreed, _“she said she had to work and send money to her family.”_

_“That’s why you agreed to send her family money,”_ Noah clarified.

_“Aye,”_ Connor answered, _“she sends them two thousand a month. She was adamant that they needed her money to survive. I don’t know why, she didn’t say, but I saw nothing wrong with doing it. She’s given up her freedom so that our identities can stay protected, the least we can do is take care of her family.”_

Connor had been expecting an argument from Noah, but he didn’t get one. He had not been as receptive to Murphy’s plan as he always was Connor’s and he had felt the rejection from his twin over the course of the day. Connor understood that he was the de facto leader of the Saints, which was why he so carefully assessed problems from every angle possible. He had also long since learned that being a good leader sometimes meant listening to someone else’s perspective. So when Murphy came up with the plan last night, he didn’t hesitate to agree. It was the best way to make something good from a bad situation. And he couldn’t argue that the view in their apartment had much improved in the past 24 hours.

While Murphy couldn’t actually read Connor’s thoughts, he could feel when the tenor of them changed. Whatever he had been thinking about was completely taken over by a new tension, a pleasantly warm tension. He looked over, discreetly, at Connor’s face just as Megan walked past them again, back to their bedroom. Connor’s ears were red, so was the back of his neck. He also noticed how Connor readjusted himself in his jeans, so as to not be noticed by anyone else, especially their Da. Murphy gave him smirk and Connor blushed even more. He knew he shouldn’t be teasing his twin, even if it was wordless. He had woken up that morning with the first raging hard on he’d had in years. And there was no mistaking that it was because a beautiful woman lay in their bed, clad in their clothes. 

But Connor and Murphy had to acknowledge that Megan was more than simply beautiful. They had to admit that Da and Smecker were right. There was something about her that was special, something they couldn’t quite put their fingers on. She was holding her secret close to the chest, her reason for becoming a hooker, but whatever it was, they knew Smecker was right again, she had made the sacrifice for someone else.

No one spoke again for another half hour, Noah having given up talking to his sons about their captive. Connor couldn’t even think the word “guest” anymore. If there was anything their penance had taught him, it was to not brush things under the rug, to not make them out to be better than they actually were. And she wasn’t their guest, she was their prisoner. There was no way around that fact. He knew their reasons were sound but he couldn’t deny the fact that they were stripping a young woman of her freedom and he couldn’t push back the weight that he felt fill his chest.

Murphy felt it too and tried to push it away, but, much like a wound, if Connor felt it, he felt it. He wanted to talk to Connor, but he didn’t want to have the discussion in front of their Da, no matter what language they had it in. They pretended to watch tv for a few more minutes when they heard the washing machine buzz, signaling completion. Not five seconds after it was finished, they heard Megan’s hurried feet coming down the hall. She sped through the living room and into the kitchen. They all listened intently as she transferred the wet clothes into the dryer. It sounded like a struggle and Murphy realized something that he whispered to Connor in Irish, not caring if their Da heard it.

_“I think she’s too short,”_ he all but giggled. Connor dropped his head back onto the back of the couch in silent laughter.

But then he asked, _“Should we go help her?”_

Murphy was about to answer but they heard the frustrated sound of her voice, echoing in the drum of the washer, “C’mon you fuckin’ piece of shit.” Then there was a thud. Then sounds of pain, “Son of a bitch,” she spat. Then they heard the door to the dryer slam shut and she walked back through holding her elbow. 

“Ye alright lass?” Connor asked her, his features somehow composed.

Her face turned bright red. “Just having trouble reaching the bottom,” she said before she hurried back to the bedroom.

After that, Noah stood and said in Irish, _“I’m going to bed. You two will keep an eye on her?”_

_“Of course, Da,”_ Connor answered, frustrated at the insinuation. _“We take responsibility for her. We’ll let her finish her laundry and then we’ll call it a night.”_

Noah nodded and walked away, touching each of his sons on the head as he passed by.

As soon as the brothers were alone, Murphy switched to German and addressed the weight he could still feel in his twin’s chest.

_“Do you want to go to confession after Mass tomorrow?”_

_“I suppose I should, but I’m not sure I even want Father MacDonald to know what we’ve done.”_

_“You shouldn’t feel guilty, Connor. It had to be done and it was a better option than killing her.”_

_“But we’ve taken her life from her all the same,”_ Connor said sadly.

_“What do you need, brother?”_

Connor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. A gesture Murphy knew meant that his brother was frustrated. _“I suppose I just need time. After tomorrow, we’ll have a better idea of how she’ll fair. But Da and Smecker are right. There’s more to her than meets the eye. Did you see all those books Smecker bought for her?”_

_“I did. He also said something about never meeting an English Lit major who didn’t write. Do you think that’s what she was studying at BC?”_

_“Aye, I do,”_ Connor said. _“She must be very smart. Boston College is hard to get in to.”_

_“How old do you think she is?”_

_“Honestly, she looks as though she’s not even twenty-one yet, but I think she’s older than that. She’s too mature to be that young.”_ Connor sighed and ruffled his hair again. _“I suppose we should try to get to know her. But slowly. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable, like we’re prying, but it’s going to be impossible not to, living in such close quarters.”_

_“Aye,”_ Murphy agreed. _“She sure looks similar to us,”_ he hedged. 

_“If I didn’t know better, I’d say she came out of Ma third, right after you,”_ he teased.

“Dammit Connor, ye still don’t know ye came out first!” Murphy shoved him, switching to English. Connor responded by putting his brother in a headlock and the wrestling match commenced. In all their thirty-two years, their mother refused to tell them which one was older and since Noah hadn’t been there when they were born, he didn’t know either. Their Ma had once told them that the one with the bigger cock came out first, but like most of their physical attributes, they were too similarly sized to determine the truth. 

Murphy wrenched himself out of Connor’s grip and tried to pin his arms down but Connor somehow got the upper hand and before Murphy knew it, he was on his back on the floor. So he decided to fight back with the best defense in his arsenal. He put his fingers on Connor’s ribs and tickled. Connor gave a shout of surprise and jerked backwards. Murphy jumped up, pushed Connor all the way to the ground and then sat on him.

“Give it up, ye bastard,” Murphy said. “Ye know I came out first.”

“The fuck you did!” Connor tried to push his brother off but Murphy bore down on him with all his weight. “Until Ma tells us otherwise, I’m the older twin!” He was becoming breathless from his brother’s body on his chest. He reached up and grabbed Murphy’s arms and flipped him. “Jus’ get used te it, little brother,” he teased after he got the upper hand. He ruffled Murphy’s fine hair, just as said twin tried to get a punch in.

“Ye fuckin’ bastard!” Murphy exclaimed when Connor grabbed his hand to deflect the punch.

“How dare ye insult me mother like that, ye bastard?” Connor laughed. 

“I was tryin’ to insult you, ye schtupid arse!”

Connor was moving in for the kill, the ultimate retribution, tickling Murphy for his attempt at tickling Connor, but he stopped. They both did when the most beautiful sound reached their ears. Megan must have come down the hall during their scuffle and had stopped to watch them. As Connor started to tickle his brother, she couldn’t hold back a small giggle. 

They froze, mid movement, and turned to look at her. She clapped a hand over her mouth and looked panic stricken before she turned around and ran back down the hall.  
Connor and Murphy scrambled to their feet and followed her to their room, walking just behind her. She seemed to have only just realized that she had nowhere to go, when she turned to face them.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Nothing te be sorry fer, lass,” Connor said gently, not quite understanding why she was so skittish, but also trying to be respectful of it. “Murphy and I were jus’ messin’ around. We didn’t mean te startle ye.”

To his complete confusion, she started shaking. He looked at Murphy who shrugged. They didn’t have a lot of experience with being around women, especially in such strange circumstances. Connor thought that maybe the stress of the past twenty four hours was finally getting to her.

“Megan,” He said softly, using her name pointedly. She looked up at him. “We’re not goin’ te hurt ye. Not fer nothing, ye understand. Murph and I mess around with each other a lot, but we’d never lay a hand on you. We’re sorry if we scared ye.”

“Aye,” Murphy said for emphasis. “Yer safe around us. I know this prob’ly isn’t somethin’ ye ever wanted, but we’ll make ye as comfortable as possible.” His words rang with truth and Connor put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Murphy rarely talked so much in front of other people, but Connor knew Murphy felt responsible for Megan. 

She took a shuddering breath, “Y’all probably think I’m crazy.”

“Yer not crazy,” Murphy answered vehemently. 

“Yer not,” Connor reaffirmed, “Ye’ve jus’ been through more stress in a day than most people go through in their lifetime.” He did some quick thinking. “Do ye drink, lass?”

“Of course,” she answered, wiping at her eyes.

“C’mon then,” Connor led the way out the door, Murphy on his heels, and Megan just behind him. He took them to the kitchen and opened one of the cabinets. He pulled out their last bottle of Jameson and sat in on the counter. Murphy found three shot glasses and lined them up, just in time for Connor to pour.

“We don’t have anything else-” Connor started as an apology, but Megan grabbed the glass closest to her and downed the shot with no hesitation. Connor and Murphy looked at each other with wide eyes.

“That’s good,” she said to the silence. “It’s no Jack Daniels, but it’ll do.” Connor and Murphy took their shots but barely felt the burn as they watched Megan pour another and down that one as well. When she put the glass down, she realized the brothers were staring at her.

“What?” She asked, self-conscious. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman toss back not jus’ one but two shots o’ whiskey,” Connor said, simply.

She laughed, the whiskey obviously doing its work, “I’ve been sneaking whiskey out of my dad’s stock since I was sixteen. Course, we usually drink Jack. But this is good too.”

“Well,” Murphy said, “we might as well catch up. Pour it, Conn.”

Connor followed his brother’s instructions and they drank the second shot.

When they finished, Megan said, “That’ll be it for me. One more and you’d have ta carry me back ta the room.” Just then the dryer buzzed. “Oh good,” she said absently. They watched her as she went to the pantry, dumped the dirty clothes that they had put in the basket days ago, and emptied the clothes from the dryer into the empty basket. She gathered it up in her arms and started back to the bedroom. The twins followed her, watching her closely just in case she fell. But she seemed to hold her liquor just fine. They watched as she put the basket in between the foot of her bed and the chest of drawers. Then they looked at the corner that she had so obviously claimed as her own. 

Paul had bought a beautiful pale blue quilt that came with sheets and she had made the bed, complete with pillow cases over the pillows they had set aside for her. She had her books stacked carefully, almost like a bedside table. It looked feminine and homey. 

“I’ll fold these tomorrow,” she said out loud. Under her breath, she said, “It’ll give me something to do.”

Connor and Murphy looked at the laundry basket and saw her new clothes mingled with their own.

“Did ye wash our clothes?” Murphy asked her.

She looked apologetic. “Yeah. My clothes didn’t make a full load, so I added the ones I found in the laundry room. I should have asked; I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, lass. We don’t expect you to do our chores for us though,” Connor told her as he dug through the drawers for something for him and Murph to sleep in. 

“What else am I supposed to do with my time?” She looked up at him as she sat down on her mattress. There was no sarcasm in her voice. It was a serious question. 

Murphy stared at her with wide eyes. She was offering to help keep house, to pull her weight, basically to take care of them. He knew that he and Connor weren’t the cleanest men in the world, but they didn’t live in filth. They couldn’t even remember a time when they didn’t take care of the place they lived in; did the dishes, their laundry, cleaned up after themselves. Their mom started drinking when they were really young and the chores became their responsibility. The only thing they couldn’t do was cook; but as for the rest of the household activities, they took care of themselves and their Da. 

Now, sitting in front of them was a woman, whose life they had taken away, a life they had changed overnight. And she was saying that she would do that shit. He couldn’t believe it. And from the look on Connor’s face, he couldn’t believe it either. But he stayed silent and let his brother answer.

“If ye really feel like ye want to, we won’t stop ye. But ye should know that ye don’t owe us anything, Megan,” he said her name again. “We may not be the cleanest in the world, but we take care of things.”

She just shrugged. “I don’t mind. I used to do the laundry and most everything else at home. I’d honestly rather keep busy. So if you need something done,” she shrugged again, “I don’t mind. I can sew too,” she added as an afterthought. “I can fix almost anything, buttons, zippers, whatever you need.”

“Smecker told us that was your sewing box,” Murphy nodded to the blue box, that she had also put at the foot of the bed and she touched it, almost without thought.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “He was nice enough to go to my apartment and get it. Along with my pictures. The box was my grandmother’s,” she told them. Her voice became incredibly sad and Connor decided not to press her. He used his chin to gesture to Murphy and his twin walked up, grabbed the clothes his brother had gotten for him and went to the bathroom.

“Are ye ready to go to bed, lass?” Connor asked. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah. I guess I should try to sleep.”

Connor walked to the door and closed it. “This door won’t be locked, but Murphy and I are light sleepers,” he warned her.

She pierced him with eyes so similar to his and Murphy’s, “I’m not going anywhere. As long as you send my family that money, I won’t run. I won’t try to sneak out.” She paused for just a moment. “I would do anythin’ to make sure my family was taken care of.”

Connor considered her word and said, “We’ll never ask more than ye can give, lass. Murphy and I will be out in a minute.”


	9. Liberating to be a Prisoner

Megan watched as Connor went to the bathroom to change with his brother. She grabbed one of the sleep shirts Paul had bought and quickly changed while she had the privacy. She felt the whiskey warming her entire body and a sober part of her mind warned her to stay on her mattress, away from the MacManus brothers. She settled down under her quilt and sheet just as the brothers came out of their bathroom wearing matching shirts and shorts; she wondered if it was intentional.

“I’m goin’ te turn the lights off. Ye ready, lass?” Connor asked.

“Go ahead,” Megan told him and then the three of them were plunged into darkness. She heard the brothers climb into bed and she finally allowed herself to realize that they slept in the same bed. She thought it odd, until she remembered their father’s words earlier, that she would never meet two brothers who were closer. She mentally shrugged. They were twins, she thought. They probably spent every minute of their lives together. How they spent it was their own business, she thought. But she did wonder, as she drifted off to sleep, just how close they really were.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Megan woke up the next morning, just after the twins had finished showering. They were half dressed in the bedroom, their chests bare, wearing only worn jeans.

“G’morning, lass,” she heard Connor say when she sat up. 

“Mornin’” she replied, rubbing her eyes. 

“We’re in a bit of a hurry,” she heard Connor say, “go on out and get yer breakfast and come back in ‘ere.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the laundry basket at the foot of her bed and hurried out to the kitchen. Noah was sitting at the table.

“Are the boys coming out?” He asked her.

“Yes,” she answered as she piled a plate with food and poured herself a glass of milk from the fridge. Everything was hurried, not at all the way she wanted to spend her first morning preparing for confinement. She rushed back to the bedroom with her food just in time to see the twins emerging from the door. 

“We’re headed out, lass,” Connor said. “I’m goin’ ta lock ye in, now.” He nodded to the doorknob that they must have turned around at some point yesterday. “We won’t be back until dinner time. Will ye be alright?”

“I think so,” she answered honestly.

“We'll be home as soon as we can,” Connor said. She stepped further into the bedroom and let him close the door. Her heart hammered as the noise of the door closing and the lock sliding home echoed in her ears. 

She couldn’t move for several moments, she just stood staring at the door, holding her breakfast. It was only when her stomach rumbled that she finally drug her feet to her mattress and sat down carefully. She ate with a sense of acceptance, a quiet compliance with her situation. She couldn’t change the sudden direction her life had taken, and she didn’t want to agonize over it anymore. She had cried yesterday and she thought that should be enough. But as she downed her glass of milk and looked around the room, that felt more like a cell, she broke down in gut wrenching sobs. 

The sorrow and grief covered her like a cloud, an impossibly heavy cloud. The full extent of her life crushed down upon her and she cried until she couldn’t breathe. So many questions accompanied her grief. How long would the twins keep her locked up like this? Would she ever see her family again? Would she even be able to call them again? And what about Cody? Her sweet little brother who still relied on hearing her voice at least once a week, what would he think when her phone calls stopped coming? What if she couldn’t see him before it was too late?

So many questions with no answers. They slammed through her harder than bullets and she lost her breath as she sobbed. When the tears finally stopped falling, she sat up and looked around the room with tear swollen eyes. It didn’t look any different and yet she could sense that it was. But it wasn’t the room that had changed, it was her mindset. She had no reason to doubt Connor and Murphy’s word that they would send the money to her parents and if they did, she could let the stress of that responsibility fall away. All she had to do was make the best of her new situation. And in a way, it was liberating to be a prisoner of the MacManus brothers. She didn’t have to sell her body anymore to make sure her brother was taken care of. The past three years could become a mere memory instead of a constant reality. She took a deep, steadying breath as that idea settled in her heart and soul. 

She stood up from her mattress and felt her misery slip from her shoulders. She steeled her resolve and went to the bathroom to take a shower. Start the day off right, Granny’s words echoed in her head, and everything else will fall into place. 

And it did. She stayed in the shower long enough to loosen the knots in her neck and shoulders and she felt refreshed when she got out. She took time to carefully blow dry her hair straight and then she went to the bedroom to get dressed. Paul had bought two pairs of jeans for her, even though it was highly unlikely that she would ever set foot out of the apartment. She pulled the lighter pair on, amazed at how perfectly they fit and how comfortable they were. She choose a soft v neck t shirt and got to work on the room.  
First, she made the brother’s bed, then her own. She went to the bathroom and rinsed her dishes in the sink. She tidied it up after that. Connor was right, he and Murphy were fairly clean, but they were still men and men didn’t clean as well as women, her Granny always said. She found a bottle of cleaning solution and some old wash clothes under the second sink and started wiping down every surface in the bathroom, including the shower/bathtub and the seat and rim of the toilet. She couldn’t find a toilet brush and made a mental note to ask the brothers to get one. Soon the bathroom was sparkling clean. 

Once that was done, she started reorganizing the chest of drawers. She hoped the twins wouldn’t mind. She put her underwear and socks, sleep shirts, shorts, and sweatpants in the middle drawer, all folded nice and neat. Then she emptied all the other drawers and laid the twin’s clothes out on the bed. She folded everything and put them back in the drawers, neat as a pin. Then she did the same thing with the closet.

By the time she was done organizing the clothes, she realized that she was hungry again. She had no clock but she estimated that it was probably mid afternoon. She just shrugged at her hunger. She would be able to eat when the brothers got home. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t gone hungry before. There had been many times in the past four years that she had sent every dime to her parents and there wasn’t anything left for her, even for food. 

So she continued on. And when there was nothing left to clean or organize, she settled on her mattress and picked up one of the books that Paul had been nice enough to buy. She smiled at the cover, opened _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and immersed herself in a town that was so similar to home.


	10. You Know How This Works

Murphy walked out of the church, his shoulder brushing up against his brother’s. Mass had not done Connor as much good as he had hoped and there was no time for confession. They walked to work together, Murphy doing everything he could to silently encourage Connor. But he saw Megan in his mind's eye too and he knew that Connor’s anxiety about the way they left her that morning was totally justified.

It wasn’t the best way to start the day. And unlike their work yesterday with Father MacDonald, their job at the shipping yard was not mentally stimulating. After fours years, everything they did was practically muscle memory by now. The hard labor at the shipping yards was better than working out at the gym and it had served the twins well over the years. 

They nodded to their boss, an old Irishman who gestured to a shipping container. They went inside and started unloading. It was best for them to be seen as little as possible and their boss always made sure they worked alone. They didn’t even know his name; they just knew he was an old friend of Father MacDonald, who had gotten them the job. When he told the brothers he had found them a job, he provided them with false papers, explained that his friend knew they were wanted men, and said that, as long as they didn’t cause trouble and did the job, he would protect them. Connor remembered their first day, when the Irishman recognized them, he raised an eyebrow, but just pointed to a container, told them in Irish to unload it and to stay away from the other crew members. No one else on the crew spoke fluent Irish, let alone any of the other languages they spoke, so it was easy to separate themselves from everyone else. 

Connor wasn’t sure if it was Megan or the recent hit on Yakavetta that made him think about the past so much. But his mind kept returning there as he carried a crate from the container they were working in. A lot had changed in the past five years, but none so drastic as the past two days. He wondered what she was doing right then, if she was alright.

Murphy walked up to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked around and for safety’s sake began speaking in French.

_“I can practically hear your mind buzzing, Conn. What’s going on?”_

_“I can’t stop thinking about how we left things with Megan this morning.”_

_“Aye,”_ Murphy responded, _“She’s been on my mind as well.”_

_“Do you think she’s alright?”_

_“I suppose we’ll see when we get home, won’t we?”_ Murphy said, logically.

Connor began to get frustrated, _“Why are you so calm about this?”_

_“You know how this works, Connor,”_ Murphy gave his brother a knowing look, referring to their connection. It had always been that way between them. If Connor was falling apart, Murphy would hold him up; if Murphy was, Connor was strong for him. The way Murphy saw it, it was just his turn to be the one who kept his head.

_“Aye, I’m sorry, Murph. I don’t really know what’s come over me.”_

_“Whenever you figure it out, I’m here, brother.”_

_“I know,”_ Connor smiled at his twin. _“And I’m thankful for that everyday.”_

After that, they worked in silence, Murphy let his beloved brother work through his jumbled thoughts. When they settled down for lunch, Connor finally broke the silence, his Italian flowing easier than French.

_“In all the years we’ve done this, we’ve always been so careful. No one ever saw us, except at Yakavetta’s trial. We’ve surrounded ourselves with trustworthy people. And when we do decided to make another execution, we do it the right way, studying the target to know how best to get to them. When she crawled out from under that bed the other night, I felt like I had failed you, Murphy. You trust me. You and Dad. And I fucked up. And you cleaned up my mess,”_ he touched his hands to his chest. _“You came up with the plan to keep Megan and to do it the best way we could. And now she trusts us to take care of her, because she has no choice. And closing that door on her this morning….I felt like I was letting one more person down.”_ He finished with a sad shake of his head. 

_“Connor….look at me,”_ Murphy ordered him and his brother finally looked him in the eye. _“You didn’t let me or dad down. You are my brother and you have taken better care of me than even Mother did. Dad can take care of himself but he knows you’re smarter than he is, that’s why he listens to you. As for Megan, right now, we just have to take one day at a time. It’s a….learning process and you have to give yourself a break, Conn.”_

He reached out and put a hand on Connor’s shoulder to steady his brother. 

_“I love you, Murphy,”_ Connor told him.

_“I love you too, Connor,”_ Murphy responded. They finished their lunch, smoked a couple of cigarettes, and got back to work.

At the end of the day, they walked home quickly, not wasting time talking. It was an unspoken agreement to get home as quickly as possible. When they got back to the apartment it was almost six o’clock. Their father wasn’t home with dinner yet and they almost sprinted to their bedroom door. Connor unlocked and opened it to reveal their beautiful prisoner sitting on her mattress, her back leaned against the wall, her knees raised, and her nose close to a book.

She looked up when they all but fell through the door, but she didn’t say anything. Not being able to stand the silence, Connor finally broke it.

“How are ye, lass?”

She gave them a smile small. “I made it through the day.”

It wasn’t the answer either of them had been looking for but it was all she offered as she folded down the page to mark her place. 

“Can I come out now?” Her question was pleading and it felt like a knife stabbing each of them in the gut.

“O’course,” Connor answered, and he and Murphy moved so she could walk out the door. She walked to the kitchen, the twins following closely behind her. Connor could see how tense her shoulders were and he thought perhaps, she didn’t appreciate being followed. They stayed close as she walked through the living room and to the kitchen. They looked at each other puzzled when she opened the empty fridge. 

“Is there anything to eat?” She asked, her brows furrowed.

“We don’t keep much on hand,” Connor said by way of apology, “Da’s on his way, he’ll have food with ‘im.”

“He’ll be here soon? She pressed. 

“Aye,” Murphy answered her, puzzled. “Are ye alright?”

“Just a bit hungry,” she answered. 

“Do ye remember when ye ate lunch?” Murphy asked.

“I didn’t have lunch,” she whispered. 

It took the brothers another breath to realize that they had not provided her with lunch before they left that morning. Connor felt his and Murphy’s breath leave their bodies. The guilt seized their souls in an iron grasp. Murphy felt the pain of it more than Connor did; but Connor felt Murphy’s pain through their connection. Now Murphy understood what his brother had been talking about at lunch: the fear of letting someone down. And even though she had only been in their lives for two days, Megan was completely dependent on them. And that was the biggest responsibility they had ever had in their lives. Murphy’s anger at himself for being so careless was almost too much to bear. He wanted someone to blame, he wanted to blame his brother, but he could only blame himself.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he heard Connor say, “We’re so sorry, lass.”

His brother apologizing for what he saw as his mistake was the final straw. He slammed both fists on the counter and stalked out of the room.

Connor could sense the break coming in Murphy, so he wasn’t surprised when his brother’s emotions boiled over but Megan jumped at Murphy’s sudden violence. He wanted to stay and comfort her, but once again, Murphy’s need was actually greater than hers.

He ran his hand through his already untidy hair. “Wait here, I’ll be back. Da should be here in just a few minutes. I’m sorry, lass.”

And he ran out the door after Murphy.


	11. Something that Shouldn't be Broken

Megan stood in the kitchen by herself, shocked to her core at what had just transpired. As scared as she had been when Murphy slammed his fists on the counter, a calming voice inside of her heart said that he was not angry at her. He would not hit her, nor would Connor. She couldn’t explain how she knew it, she just did. Despite losing her freedom, she felt safe with the MacManus brothers. It was not a feeling she was used to. In her profession, it wasn’t uncommon to be around dangerous men. To be threatened, to be handled roughly.

But Connor and Murphy weren’t like that. She knew it the minute she opened her eyes in their bedroom Saturday night. They could have so easily killed her. But they didn’t. 

They did what was most difficult, they kept her. They spent money on her. They made sure she had everything she needed. 

They may kill men for a living, but she knew they wouldn’t harm her.

But Murphy’s sudden loss of control still frightened her. Not because she was afraid he would hurt her, but because she knew he blamed himself. And she didn’t want him to.   
She finally found her feet and moved to the door. She reached out to open it and follow the brothers, but she stopped. Paul Smecker’s words resounded in her head, “You’re only safe if you stay here.” Her life was in danger too. No one knew she was here, what if she was seen? More importantly, what if they thought she was trying to escape? She couldn’t risk it and she backed away from the door as though it were a snake ready to bite. 

She decided that the best course of action was to sit down on the couch and wait. The seconds ticked by slowly as she wondered where the brothers were. She started wringing her hands, a nervous habit she thought she had broken long ago. The clock on the vcr read 6:32; it was the first time all day she knew what time it was. She watched as the clocked changed to 6:33, then 6:34, 6:35. As those minutes changed, she realized she was glad there was no clock in the bedroom. If there were, she would watch it all day long. Since there wasn’t, the day actually went by quickly, at least it seemed that way.

When the clock read 6:36, she heard voices coming up the stairs. They were male and speaking a language she couldn’t understand. Seconds later, Noah burst through the door, gesturing violently to Connor and Murphy who were just behind him, carrying what looked like take out bags. Now that she could see them, it was obvious that Noah was chastising his sons. She assumed it was for fighting, since both twins had bruises appearing on their faces and Connor actually had a bloody nose.

Noah was in the middle of a sentence, speaking, she thought, Irish, when his eyes landed on her. He immediately switched to English.

“How long have ye been sitting there lass?”

“Four minutes,” she answered confidently.

“Four minutes,” he turned to the twins as they walked in and closed the door, “that she had ev’ra opportunity to walk out tha door!” He thundered at them. “If I had known tha two of ye would be so careless about this-“

“They’re not careless!” Megan jumped up, interrupting him. “And I won’t walk out the door! I’m not going anywhere!”

The air in the room might have frozen solid. Megan was shocked at her own bravado, Noah looked as though he never expected that kind of response from a seemingly demure, Southern girl, and the twins looked sheepish at her coming to their defense. She pushed her chin out refusing to back down, even though Noah terrified her in that moment. Her frustration was more prominent than her fear. She was tired of them assuming she would run and sell them out at the first opportunity. She owed them a great debt, not just for her life, but for her brother’s as well, and that wasn’t something that was easily forgotten. They had given her their word, she had given hers, and it was something that shouldn’t be broken.

Noah looked as though he wanted to say something, but she refused to give him the chance. She stalked to the kitchen, feeling the gaze of all three men as she did so. She opened the top door of the refrigerator and thankfully found an icemaker with a bucket full of ice. She shut the door and started rummaging through the drawers. She found sandwich bags that looked like they were at least five years old and some worn dish rags. She filled two bags full of ice, wrapped them in dish cloths and marched back to the table, where she plopped each one in front of Connor and Murphy’s chairs. 

Then she snatched the take out bag from Connor and said, “Since the three of y’all have stopped bickerin’, can I eat now?” But she didn’t wait for an answer, she set the food out on the kitchen counter and then started making plates. When they still hadn’t moved, she turned around and found them staring at her. “What!” They all jumped. “Sit down and use the damn ice before it melts.” Connor and Murphy did as they were told and seconds later she sat plates full of food in front of them. Then she went back and fixed plates for her and Noah. Once that was done, she sat and ate her own food with gusto. 

Even though it was just Chinese takeout, to her it was the best food she’d ever eaten. She had been able to ignore her hunger ever since Murphy’s outburst, but now it was back in full force. She ate so quickly that she finished her food before the brothers had even eaten half of theirs. They seemed to be having trouble multitasking; Connor eating around the ice pack on his nose, and Murphy trying to eat left handed as the ice sat on his right. 

Since she was finally full, and her temper had cooled, she decided to break the silence. “Do y’all always eat takeout?” She asked to no one in particular.

“No one knows how to cook,” Noah answered stiffly. “It’s just easier to order out.”

“Aye,” Murphy agreed, “the last time we tried, we had ta throw tha whole pan away, et was burnt up so bad.”

“Do you still have any pots and pans?”

“Oh, aye,” Connor said thickly, “everything’s still in there.”

“Well, if y’all can promise to leave me lunch from now on, I don’t mind cooking dinner. I’m a little bit out of practice cooking for so many, but I think I can still swing it.” 

“Ye can cook?” Connor asked, the idea of a home cooked meal obviously appealing.

“Yeah,” she answered slowly. “My granny taught me. I used to cook for the whole family.” 

She saw Connor and Murphy look at their father, the plea painfully obvious in their eyes. Noah sighed heavily and looked at her.

“They forgot ta provide ye with lunch?”

Megan didn’t realize that Noah didn’t already know. She nodded cautiously.

“Is this why the two of ye were fighting downstairs?”

“Aye, Da,” they said at the same time.

Noah sighed again, “Go make me a list of everything ye need, lass, and I’ll go before the market closes ta’night.”

“Oh thank you!” She jumped up and ran to her room to get her notebook. She quickly wrote down what she needed to cook for the rest of the week and Noah set off, leaving her with the brothers. Their ice had almost melted by then and they were just taking the bags off their injuries.

“We’re sorry about earlier, lass,” Connor told her once it was just the three of them.

“Aye,” Murphy agreed, “we didn’t scare you too bad did we?”

She smiled. “Maybe just a little bit.” She stood and walked over to their side of the table. “Can I look to see if anything’s broken?”

“It’d be much appreciated, lass,” Connor said softly. She walked to Murphy first, gently lifting his swollen hand. She prodded softly at the middle joint and he hissed in pain. 

Megan felt her own hand thud at his pain, almost as though she could feel it herself. She forced her mind to focus. 

“I think it’s just cracked, not broken completely. You should probably wrap it up. Do you have something I could wrap it in?”

“I’ll go get the first aid kit,” Connor said.

He was back in just a few seconds and she rummaged through it. An ace bandage was on the bottom, of course, and she set to wrapping Murphy’s hand.

“How do ye know what to do?” Murphy seemed curious at her knowledge.

“My roommate was stripping to put herself through nursing school. She taught me a thing or two after some customers started roughing up the girls one night.” 

“We’re sorry, lass,” Murphy said, speaking for him and his brother for the first time. So far it had been Connor who would speak for the two of them. She looked up from his hand and saw care and concern in his eyes. His sharp, blue eyes. They made her heart stop and she had to remind herself that he was a killer and one of her captors. She swallowed thickly as he looked into her eyes and she broke the contact reluctantly. 

Working on Connor was even more difficult. Their eyes met almost instantly and he said nothing as she gingerly pressed on and around his nose. 

“I can’t tell if it’s broken or just fractured,” she said, trying to keep her wits about her.

“Is et too crooked, lass?”

“No just swollen,” she replied.

“Then I’ll live with it. It’s best that we stay out of the hospital ye know.” He pierced her with the most serious look and she knew he carried the responsibilities of everyone, including her, on his shoulders. It took everything that was in her to walk away from the two of them. Their injuries were cared for and that should be the end of the contact she had between them. But her fingers burned where she had touched, not just Murphy, but Connor as well.


	12. By Way of Sorrow

The occupants of the apartment soon fell into a routine as the week progressed. Connor and Murphy made sure to wake up in plenty of time to make sure Megan had breakfast and lunch, and anything else she needed, before they locked her in and left for work. As far as they could tell, Megan kept herself as busy as possible while they were gone; their room had never been so clean before. They would release her as soon as they got home and she would start cooking dinner. Noah would come home and they would all sit and eat like some strange, put together family. Afterwards, Megan would do the dishes and laundry and get ready for the next day. Connor and Murphy were a little awkward around her at those times, not wanting to get in her way, but also wanting a chance to get to know her better. Connor had to admit that he was disappointed that they didn’t spend more time with her. But work was a necessity, as was her confinement. She hadn’t tried to escape after that very first night, but they both knew that their father still didn’t trust her word. Noah did, however, make sure that the kitchen was well stocked with goods that she could turn into dinner. And every meal she cooked the rest of the week was absolutely delicious. If it wasn’t for their job, Connor and Murphy both knew they would quickly lose the muscle tone they had worked so hard for. 

The days melted away and soon it was Friday, the twins new favorite day. Because they only worked half a day and they hoped that they might use the afternoon to get to know their beautiful, enigmatic prisoner. 

They got home just after lunch and opened the door to reveal a surprised Megan, folding clothes.

“What are y’all two doing here?”

“We only work half a day on Friday’s,” Connor answered her. “How are ye, lass?”

To their surprise she just shrugged. Her face was drawn down in a frown and Connor got the distinct impression that something was bothering her. He wanted to press the issue but the current from his twin buzzed in his brain, a warning to leave her be.

“We brought lunch with us if yer hungry,” Connor said and then he and Murphy left the room. 

_“What do you think is bothering her?”_ Murphy asked his brother in Irish.

_“I couldn’t even begin to guess. I’m glad you picked up on that too, though. I almost forced it out of her.”_

_“That wouldn’t have done any good, Conn.”_

_“I know. I guess she’ll tell us if she really wants to.”_ But Connor’s tone made it clear that he was left wanting.

And if he was honest, Murphy was too. _“Do you think she’ll ever trust us?”_

_“Maybe, with time.”_ And both of their minds went to Tuesday, when they finally remembered to show her the Western Union receipt. Tears had flooded her eyes but all she said was thank you and walked to their room to be locked inside. 

The brothers sat at the table and started eating when, about ten minutes later, they heard light footsteps coming down the hallway. When Megan finally made her appearance, her face was a mask of apprehension. And Connor knew immediately she wanted something, badly. But he waited, and Murphy followed suit, for her to make the first move.

“Connor? Murphy?” It was the first time she had said their names and it sent thrills of desire through the both of them. Focus, Connor thought, willing Murphy to do the same.

“Aye, lass,” Connor answered. “What’s on yer mind?”

“I have a favor to ask,” she hedged.

“Aye, I thought so.”

“I was wondering…..if I…..maybe could….. call my family.” Connor opened his mouth to refuse but she stopped him. “Wait! Before you say no, please consider it for just a minute. I just want them to know that I’m ok. You can stand next to me the entire time. If you don’t like what I’m sayin’ then just take the phone away. Please. I just want them to know that I’m ok.”

Connor put his fork down and looked at his brother, trying to level with Murphy. It was a risk, but they wanted her to trust them. And maybe if they showed trust in her, she would be more inclined to trust them as well. The question now was would it be worth it? He tried to read his twin and the feeling he got from Murphy was that, yes it was worth the risk.

“Alright, lass. But Murphy and I are goin’ ta be right beeside ye tha whole time, agreed?”

“Yes,” she breathed out. 

The twins stood but let her lead the way to the kitchen, to the old phone. She picked up the receiver and they stood on either side of her. They watched as she carefully dialed   
the number and put the phone to her ear. 

It rang twice and then a voice, so similar to Megan’s was loud enough to be heard by them.

_“Hello?”_

“Mom?”

_“Megan? Oh my god! Where have you been? What happened? We’ve been calling all week!”_

“I’m sorry, mom-“

_“Katie said you left a note and all your stuff and we almost called the police!”_

That confirmed to Connor, more than anything, that they were doing the right thing. The last thing they needed was a nervous mother badgering the Boston PD.

“Mom, no,” Megan was saying, “I’m fine, don’t call the police. Katie shouldn’t have worried you, I just had to find another place to live pretty quick. I promise I’m fine. I’m safe.”

_“You swear?!”_

“I swear, mom. You got the money, right?

_“We did, but we never heard from you.”_

“I just haven’t had time to call. Where are y’all?” Megan’s hand tightened on the receiver. 

Her mother didn’t answer right away and they watched her face carefully.

_“We’re in Nashville.”_ She finally said.

“No!” Megan wailed and slapped her hand on the counter. Connor and Murphy looked at each other, trying to understand what was so obvious to her. “When?”

_“Tuesday.”_

“What happened?”

_“He felt a pain in his leg. They’ve confirmed that it’s a relapse.”_

Megan brought her hand back up to cover her face and she started to shake. “How bad is it?”

_“It’s bad honey. They started chemo yesterday.”_

“Is it as bad as two years ago?”

_“Not yet…. He wants to talk to you.”_

“Give him the phone,” she demanded. Connor and Murphy watched her as they all waited and a faint voice replaced her mother’s brash one.

_“Sissy?”_

“I’m here, buddy,” she replied, tears welling up in her eyes.

_“Are you ok?”_

“Of course I am, buddy,” it almost ended as a question.

_“Mom and Dad were worried about you. They said you wouldn’t answer the phone,”_ the little voice accused.

“I’m sorry, bud, I had to move all a sudden, and this is the first time I’ve been able to call. Mom shouldn’t’ve worried you,” Megan’s tone became angry. “How’re you feeling?”

_“Better than some-”_

“Not as good as most,” she finished with a sad smile.

_“Do you like the new place your living?”_

“Sure, buddy.”

_“Do you have roommates?”_

“I have three,” she answered.

_“Are they nice?”_

“They’re very nice.”

_“Good, you should have nice roommates. Your old roommate wasn’t nice.”_

“She definitely wasn’t as nice as my new roommates,” Megan replied, wryly.

_“Sissy?”_

“Yes?”

_“Will you sing me that song? I’m so tired and mom doesn’t sing it right.”_

Megan took a deep breath. “Of course I will.” Connor and Murphy saw her eyes flit from one side to the other, fully aware that they weren’t going anywhere. Then she closed her eyes, doing her best to ignore them. And she opened her mouth and Connor and Murphy heard her heart and soul being poured into her song.

“You’ve been taken by the wind.  
You have known the kiss of sorrow.  
Doors that would not let you in,  
outcast and a stranger.  
You have come by way of sorrow,  
You have come by way of tears,  
But you’ll reach your destiny meant to find you all these years,  
Meant to find you all these years.  
You have drunk a bitter wine  
With none to be your comfort  
You who once were left behind  
Will be welcome at love’s table.  
You have come by way of sorrow,  
You have take a long way home,  
But the love that wits for you,  
You will someday come to know, you will one day come to know.  
All the nights that joy has slept,  
Will awake to days of laughter.  
Gone the tears that you have wept,  
You’ll dance in freedom ever after.  
You have come by way of sorrow,  
You’ve come over a stony ground,  
But when love calls out your name,   
You will lay your burden down, you will lay your burden-  
You have come by way of sorrow,  
You have come by way of tears,  
But you’ll reach your destiny  
Meant to find you all these years, meant to find you all these years.”

Her voice was a soft mellow sound, somewhere between an alto and soprano. It filled the kitchen with warmth and love. Connor and Murphy looked at each other, shock coursing through their bodies, souls, and connection. Once again, they realized that their prisoner was a mystery, she held secrets that they desperately wanted to know. 

“Cody?” Her song was over and she was quietly speaking into the phone. “Cody?”

_“Megan?”_

“Mom.”

_“He fell asleep. I can’t ever remember all the words-”_

“Mother,” Megan cut her off, “you need to keep your concern about me to yourself. He can see it. The last thing he needs to worry about is me. Since you got that money, you should have known that I was fine.”

_“I know, honey, but we-”_

“No! No buts. You keep him focused on getting better. That’s all that matters. Do you understand me?”

_“Megan, are you sure you can’t come home?”_

Megan closed her eyes in frustration. “Mother we have been round and around about this. You know I can’t come home. And besides, if I did, how would you make up for the loss of two thousand dollars a month? Tell me, mom. Tell me you wouldn’t be beggin’ me for that money again.” There was silence on the other end. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought.”

_“Now see here, young lady-”_

“No! That ship has sailed, mother. You lost the right to call me that after the third job wasn’t enough. You’ll get your next payment on Monday, just like you do every Monday. I don’t know when I’ll be able to call again. You need to prepare him for that.”

_“How do I reach you? In case….”_

As her mother’s voice trailed off, Connor sprinted out of the kitchen, grabbed the receipt that was attached to the take out bag, found a pen in the junk drawer and scribbled the number on it and handed it to Megan. She looked up at him in shock, but he nodded encouragement.

“Do you have a pen?”

_“Yes-”_

“Write this down,” and she rattled off the number. “But only call….if you absolutely have to. I’ll call again, when I can. And I mean it mother, you better fuckin’ take care of him. He needs you to have your head screwed on straight.” And with that, she slammed the phone down and ended the call.


	13. It Felt Like Strength

Megan slammed the phone down, but didn’t let it go. Her knuckles were turning white as she clenched it in anger. She could feel her temper steadily rising to the surface and there was no way to stop it. Anger flooded her heart, mind, and soul. Anger at having been forced to prostitute herself for money. Anger at the Saints for keeping her captive. Anger at not buying a car four years ago. Anger at her mother for not focusing on Cody when his needs were much greater than hers. And anger at cancer, for targeting an innocent child for so long. 

“Megan?”

“Lass?”

She didn’t know which twin said what, and at the moment she didn’t care. She jerked herself away from them and ran down the hall. Slamming her fist into a wall as she went. But it didn’t help; it never did. She went to the bedroom, to her mattress and fell onto it, on her knees. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to hold herself together, as she cried for her little brother. Her beloved brother, who didn’t deserve this, who she hadn’t seen since before his diagnosis, who she might not see ever again. The sobs tore through her body and though she knew Connor and Murphy were there watching her, she couldn’t stop herself. 

Take me! She screamed silently to a God she no longer believed in. Fucking take me instead! She had done so many horrible things in the past few years that she knew she deserved to die. Why couldn’t God give her cancer instead? She would have gladly taken every tumor out of her brother’s body with her bare hands and put it into her own. If someone had to die, she wanted it to be her. But not Cody. Not a another relapse, she sobbed harder at the thought. She wasn’t sure he could survive a third round of chemo, of cancerous cells eating away at his body. 

After a few minutes, she felt pressure on either side of her and a part of her mind whispered that she wasn’t alone on her mattress anymore. A hand she could not see reached out and grabbed her shoulder. She could almost feel the concern vibrating through the fingers, but she didn’t feel pity there, and that was what compelled her to turn towards the arm and into the chest it was attached to. She gripped the shirt as though it was the only thing holding her to this world. Arms wrapped around her and she heard a quiet voice.

“Connor.” It was Murphy. And after his one word instruction, she felt warmth and pressure against her back. The twins encircled her with their bodies and she reached a hand out and grabbed the brother that was behind her; Connor, maybe? At this point, there was no stopping her tears, her emotions were too strong. 

But through her emotions, she could faintly feel something else, almost pulsing between the brothers. It felt like strength. She almost laughed maniacally at the that thought. That they were trying to give her their own strength; it was ridiculous and she attributed it to the break down she was having.

But she kept her thoughts to herself as she spiraled downwards. Connor and Murphy never moved from their positions unless she did, adjusting only to accommodate her. She had no idea how much time had past, but she finally, slowly cried her last tears. With great reluctance, she pulled away from the two brothers, and they let her. But as soon as she was free from their grasp, she wanted to throw herself back in between them. She didn’t understand the feeling and she pushed it aside as she wiped her eyes.

“Sorry about that,” she mumbled.

“Nothin’ te apologize fer, lass,” Connor said. “Are ye alright?”

She shrugged but also shook her head.

“Megan?” She turned in surprise to Murphy; it was the first time he had said her name and she noticed. “Who was that ye were talking to? Who has cancer?”

She looked up at him, startled that they had heard so much. Connor and Murphy must have heard her mother say “relapse” and “chemo.”

She opened her mouth and before she knew it, everything was spilling from her soul. “My little brother, Cody.” She dropped her face into her hand, but continued speaking. 

“Four years ago, I was a junior at BC, I only had one year left to go. Cody was nine and fell off his bike. It wasn’t a hard fall, mom said, but his wrist just snapped. When they x-rayed it, they found a tumor just below the wrist. Bone cancer. It was spreading up his right arm. They amputated it at the elbow before the week was out and started him on chemo. And I was stuck here, because I didn’t have a car. And suddenly my parents had all these new expenses and they couldn’t get me a plane or bus ticket. They had to take him to Nashville and he was in the hospital there for about three months. It was aggressive and they were doing everything they could. He was so sick and I was here. I dropped out so that I could work full time and I sent my parents every dime I made. They had to rent an apartment in Nashville while still paying a mortgage on their house in Seveirville. I took a second job, then a third, and it still wasn’t enough. So just after they brought him back from the hospital, I started stripping.” She had already told them how that happened and was not in the mood to repeat it. “Then even that escalated to, well, you got the idea last weekend.” She shrugged. 

“Does yer mother know?” Connor asked her.

“She does, but we don’t talk about it. They need the money to keep Cody healthy. He relapsed two years ago, and according to her, he relapsed again this week. My dad is a truck driver so he’s never home. He works extra to help pay the medical bills, so it’s really just my mom and she can barely keep it together. My Gran helps when she can but the woman’s almost eighty; there’s only so much she can do.”

“He’s thirteen now?” Murphy asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Yes.”

“How old are ye, lass?” This question came from Connor.

“I’m twenty five. There’s twelve years between me and Cody.” She raised her head and finally looked at the both of them. She knew her eyes were puffy and red but she just couldn’t care about her appearance right then. “That’s where your money is going. To try to save my brother,” she finished.

“That’s why ye became a prostitute?” Connor clarified.

“Yes,” she whispered. And she saw a look exchanged between the two of them. But it wasn’t one of judgment or of pity. It was one of understanding, one that said that they knew what it was like to risk everything for the person you loved. Finally they looked back at her and Connor asked yet another question.

“Where did ye learn that song?”

“My grandmother used to sing it to me when I was little.”

“Did ye know that et’s Irish?” Murphy asked and she frowned.

“Of course I did.” She knew she couldn’t keep her face blank, knew she was looking at them like they were crazy. “I’m Irish.”

“What?” They both asked at the same time.

“Well, I guess I’m not as Irish as the two of you are. My great-great grandparents came over in 1855. So I guess it’s better to say that my family is of Irish descent. I thought you figured that out when I told you my last name.”

“McKinney,” Connor said and shook his head as though he felt like an idiot.

“Yeah,” she nodded and rubbed her eyes. And they were all quiet for a few moments before the sound of her stomach growling broke the silence. 

“Are ye hungry, lass?” Connor asked, she could tell he was trying to hold back a smile. 

“I guess I should eat,” she answered, knowing it wasn’t really the answer they were looking for.

“C’mon then,” Murphy stood up and held out his hand. She took it and he pulled as Connor wrapped his hands around her waist and pushed her from her bed. From the time that Murphy touched her to the time Connor let go, she thought her body was on fire. It was only a few seconds and yet she thought that she could burn between them for the rest of eternity. It was a crazy thought that she tried to get rid of. But as she walked down the hall, Murphy in front of her and Connor behind, she couldn’t help but relish the feeling of their bodies surrounding her while she cried.


	14. Always Surrounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One month later.

As the next weeks passed by, Connor and Murphy watched their captive closely. They kept looking for signs of another breakdown, but she showed none. Murphy suspected that allowing her to call her brother every Friday helped prevent a repeat of that first Friday. 

And he couldn’t help the frustration that brought. He would never admit it out loud but he wanted, needed an excuse to hold her again. He could feel the same want coming from his twin and he itched to talk about it with him, but he didn’t know how to approach the subject. 

The tension coming from Connor was loud and clear and he wanted so badly to force it from him, but unfortunately they were always surrounded. When they weren’t at work, they were at Mass or working for Father MacDonald, and when they weren’t there, they were at home with their Da and the ever present Megan. In years past, they were able to retreat to their room, hold each other in the bed they shared and talk or not talk. But now even that was difficult. They both new they could speak six languages that she couldn’t understand but it felt wrong to speak about her in front of her.

So they lapsed into a gloomy silence and the tension grew between them. The only thing that kept them both sane was the ability to hold each other at night. Murphy used to fear that touch, when it began four years ago. It happened accidentally the first time. They were living in a different part of town; the apartment they were in could barely warrant the name. It was a two bedroom, one bath, with no living room and just a sink and small fridge. It was barely better than the rundown loft they had lived in before they became the Saints. He and Connor had a mattress each, directly on the floor, just as Megan’s was now. They were close together, only a few feet apart, but up until then, they had always slept in separate beds. 

The hit that night had been a particularly difficult one. They went after a Russian mafia underboss, who had been doing his best to capture the brothers and collect Yakavetta’s reward. And so the hunted decided to become the hunters. They killed a lot of men that night. All mafia scumbags, it was true, but the more they had to kill, the more it weighed on their conscious. When they finally made it back home, exhausted and covered in blood, they didn’t go to bed at first. Instead they spent at least half an hour on their knees, holding their rosaries and praying for forgiveness. When they finished praying, they both collapsed in Connor’s bed, Murphy feeling such a strong need to be close to his brother. They didn’t speak but as they fell asleep, he had a vague memory of Connor wrapping his arm around his chest and pulling him close enough that their skin touched. They woke up that way, Connor’s strong arm holding them together, and a sense of peace filled them as it never had before. 

God made them brothers, they reasoned, and not just brothers, but twins. The first nine months of their lives, they spent beside each other, why should now be any different. 

So they started sleeping side by side. It strengthened their connection to hold each other. Sometimes they talked about it, what it meant, what it might lead to, especially after the night Murphy felt Connor’s cock grow against his ass. 

_“I’m sorry, Murph,”_ he had said in French, just in case their Father could hear.

_“It’s alright. It’s been a long time,”_ Murphy tried to comfort him, but then his brain started spinning. And he couldn’t keep himself from asking, _“Do you ever think of me….that way?”_

_“Would you hate me if I said yes?”_

_“Of course not, Connor. I wouldn’t ask if I hadn’t thought about the same thing. Do you think it’s just because it’s been so long since we’ve both…”_ Murphy blushed at the memory of being unable to say the word and Connor had laughed at him for it.

“ _Since we’ve both had sex? You can say it, Murph. And yes, I think that could be part of it. But I….I don’t think I could be with someone again….without you Murph. I miss the touch of a woman. But if you’re….not there with me, it feels….empty._ ”

Connor’s halting confession had startled Murphy, but he remembered that, as his brother’s words sunk in, he felt the same way. Connor had always been that way, putting words to Murphy’s feelings, as though Murphy couldn’t voice them without Connor.

“ _I like the idea of that,”_ Murphy remembered saying, “ _but isn’t a sin?_ ”

“ _No more than the feelings we have now. Or the murders we commit. But I have a hard time believing that if God gave us each other, that he would begrudge us the need to be with the same woman_.”

And even though Murphy knew Connor was trying to fit doctrine to his own wants, he agreed. The thought of one woman between their bodies was too good a thought. And it preemptively stopped any feelings of jealousy or resentment that might spring up if a strong enough woman ever came into their lives. But it hadn’t happened and the next four years were spent in each other’s arms. They had shared embraces and even kisses at times over the years. There was even one memorable morning when Connor let Murphy masturbate in the shower, while he stood in the bathroom speaking in French, saying some of the dirtiest things Murphy had never even imagined before. When he was finished, he stuck his head around the curtain to express his gratitude, but Connor just pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips and left so that Murphy could bathe in peace. 

All these thoughts were flooding Murphy’s mind as the walked to Mass exactly one month after Megan came into their lives. It was the longest month of his life. After that one glorious moment of feeling Megan between him and Connor it hadn’t happened again and he felt himself wishing for it. He wanted her, he wanted his brother, he wanted his brother to want her. It was all so confusing and he needed Connor to voice it, to give words to what he was feeling. But he couldn’t talk to Connor and it was all boiling just under the surface of his brain.

“Jesus, Murph, I can practically feel yer head turnin’ round and round.” Connor said after he looked around to make sure the street was deserted. “What are ye thinking, brother?”

Murphy blushed and Connor noticed but he waited for Murphy to find his words. “Thinkin’ about tha’ first apartment we had after the Yakavetta trial.” His answer was vague but Connor read between the lines and grinned.

“Aye, that was a fine...apartment.” He said but that was all he had time for. They were at the side entrance of the church. They slipped inside and sat in their hiding place while Father MacDonald conducted the service. It was good for their souls to go to Mass. They stayed on theirs knees, prayed for forgiveness and for the world. They also added an extra prayer for Megan’s brother, Cody. It was something they did ever since Megan had told them about the boy. They also took time to light a candle for him whenever the church was deserted. Megan didn’t know, and they wanted it to stay that way. They were very careful with their feelings around her; it was as though she could sense pity in another person and she wanted none of it.

Connor and Murphy controlled the pity they might have felt for her, but every other feeling was harder to keep in check. As they prayed on their knees, she flooded their minds and each brother could feel her through their connection. Connor nudged Murphy, a silent instruction to focus but by then the congregation was standing, the choir singing the exit hymn. They melted from the shadows into the hallway and silently climbed the stairs to the small chapel to wait for Father MacDonald.

They were sitting facing each other, their heads bowed toward the other, when Father MacDonald walked in.

“My sons,” he said as he did the sign of the cross over them in blessing. He touched each of their foreheads before sitting down. “I have no work for you today, but I have a devoted child who is in need of your other….services this evening.”

Murphy and Connor looked at each other; this was only the second time that the priest had openly provided them with a new target. They would counsel him when they were preparing for a mob target, but not much more than that.

“Go on, Father,” Connor nodded.

Father MacDonald spent the better part of an hour explaining the horrible situation that one of women in the church had found herself in. While her husband had been alive, he borrowed money from the Russian mob, without telling her. When he died, the debt was left unpaid and the Russians soon came knocking. After giving them everything she could scrap together, it still wasn’t enough. Now, the Russians were impatient and the scumbag who was in charge of the family’s account was threatening to take the woman’s fifteen year old daughter and keep her till the debt was paid.

Connor felt his stomach turn over when Father MacDonald told them that. He didn’t explicitly say it but Connor and Murphy both knew that they would rape the poor girl, use her until she had nothing left. 

“Aye, weel do it, Father,” Connor told him. Murphy nodded at his twin’s side. The priest spent another half hour explaining everything to them, from what time they should be at her house, to the way it was laid out, to how many members of the mob she was expecting. That was the most important part. Connor and Murphy usually liked to take their time, learn about the men they were going to kill. The more information they had meant a safer night for them. But today, time was of the essence. They left the church just after two o’clock and walked home to get ready for the night ahead of them.


	15. A Terrible Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A just in case Trigger Warning: suicidal thoughts are discussed from a third party perspective in this chapter.

Megan was curious and concerned as she listened to Connor and Murphy explain to her and Noah where they would be going that evening and why. She tried to hide her shock when they told her that a priest asked them to do this. But she understood why when they said the mobsters would take an innocent girl as collateral. Her heart constricted at the thought of what those evil men would do to the young girl.

She tried to stay out of the way while Connor and Murphy prepared their supplies for the hit. She couldn’t help but watch them as they silently cleaned their guns at the table. 

Again, it was like watching a dance. They knew exactly what they were doing with the weapons. She found that there was a terrible beauty watching them load the bullets in the magazines, a quiet determination on both of their faces. But she could also sense tension between them; she assumed that it was because of what they were about to do, but she had a feeling there was more to it than that.

She was also forced to admit to herself that Connor and Murphy were dangerous men. She hadn’t felt that way since climbing out from under the bed at Yakavetta’s house. It was easy to forget that the MacManus brothers were killers when they took care of her. More than that, they actually seemed to care if she was ok. They asked after Cody every Friday afternoon. They made sure she had everything she needed. She even noticed that when her tampon box was low after her first period there, there was another one just like it under the sink. She had turned beet red when she realized that they had noticed, but she appreciated their discretion all the same. To her, they were truly like roommates, maybe even friends. But to the rest of the world, they were killers and wanted men. 

She was sitting with Noah, trying to watch tv when Connor and Murphy came out of their bedroom, wearing black turtlenecks and shoulder holsters. The turtlenecks covered their many tattoos and accentuated their pale skin. Megan felt a hot stab of desire, for both of them, run from her chest down to settle between her legs. Yes, they were killers, but she’d never found any men more attractive. 

“You’ll be leavin’ then?” Noah asked his sons.

“Aye,” Connor answered. “It’s dark enough now, we don’t want ta be late.”

Noah stood and walked over to Connor and Murphy. He put his hands on their shoulders and they all bowed their heads as Noah prayed in Irish. As he finished, Megan recognized “In nomine Patri, et fili, et Spiritus Sancti.” Noah did the sign of the cross of the two of them and they all said together, “Amen.”

She whispered it as well, quickly sending up a prayer of protection for her Saints. That thought made her stand in agitation. They weren’t her Saints, she thought angrily, wringing her hands. Those thoughts led down a dangerous road and she had to stop them before they affected her even more. 

When there was nothing left to do, Connor and Murphy looked past their father to Megan. Her eyes flicked back and forth between them but she couldn’t say anything. 

“Ye alright lass?” Connor asked her.

She nodded as she swallowed thickly.

“We’ll be back in a little while,” he said, while Murphy nodded beside him. They both turned and she finally found her voice.

“Be careful!” She called out. They looked back at her and gave her the same small smile.

“We will be,” Connor assured her. And they were gone.

“I used ta think et would get easier, watchin’ them leave…”

She looked at Noah, puzzled as he sat heavily on the couch, the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I used ta go with them.” He answered her unspoken question. 

“Really?” She was shocked, Noah had to be over 60.

“Aye. I could go and help protect me boys as they carried out their calling. But when we targeted a lower branch of the Italian mafia a year ago, I was shot in tha leg.” She sat back on down on the couch, listening to his story. “Connor stopped wha’ he was doing to help me, exposin’ himself in the process. Murphy was furious when the job was finally done. Of tha two of them, Murphy got tha hot head. Ye saw tha result o’ their scuffle yer first week, this one was way worse. By tha time I got them calmed down, they each had an eye tha’ sweelled shut, blood ev’rawhere. When we were finally able to talk calmly, we all decided it was best that I stay behind. Course, it was a year between then and their most recent execution.”

“The one last month,” she clarified, “when they found me.”

He nodded in agreement, but said nothing.

“Why so long between those two?” She asked, than added, “Why only a month between Yakavetta and this target?”

Noah didn’t answer her right away. He leaned back against the arm of the couch, his finger on his top lip again, and stared at her. She felt scrutinized, like he was trying to figure out why she wanted to know. 

“When they started this, their calling, they were killing mafia men almost once a week. They had an old friend who worked for Papa Joe Yakavetta.” She tilted her head and drew her eyebrows together, trying to reconcile what they did with having a friend on the inside. Noah chuckled, “I know. Et seems crazy now ta think tha’ while they were killing mafiosos, they had one right beeside them. But Rocco was low level, and they had been friends fer a long time. He got in too deep and when Connor and Murphy accidentally prevented a hit on him, he wanted to take revenge on tha whole organization. He was reckless and he put Connor and Murphy’s lives at risk.” She saw him stiffen as he said those words; the idea of losing his sons was clearing distressing. She wondered how many years the worry already added to his life. “And he died because of it. He almost took Connor and Murphy with him.” His jaw clenched and she waited for him to relax. “After we executed Papa Joe, tha boys agreed to be more careful. Only making hits when it was absolutely necessary. Planning carefully when they decided to do so. Using Paul and the detectives for help. Tha night they executed Gabriel Yakavetta took a whole year to plan. And it nearly ended in disaster.”

“Because of me,” she whispered.

“Aye. Because of you, lass, they’ll not take their masks off tonight fer a moment. I wish they had more time ta plan, but et seems that time is not on their side today,” he finished heavily.

“But then, why take the risk? With so little time to plan?” 

“Father MacDonald would not have asked if it weren’t of tha utmost importance. They take their callin’ verra seriously. The people in this community have protected them fer almost four years now, they believe et is their duty to protect them as weel.”

She furrowed her brow thinking about all he said. Her head was spinning in circles. In the past month, she had observed Connor and Murphy but she still didn’t feel as though she knew them very well. They did not speak much about their past, not that she blamed them. 

“It would also send quite tha message,” Noah said, his voice invading her thought, “to tha Russian Mob. To stay out of the neighborhood. If et goes well, it could bring them another layer of protection.”

She was confused by this. “What do you mean?”

“Connor and Murphy lead a more dangerous lifestyle than most Mafia Don’s,” he said slowly. “Smecker cannot protect them the way crooked cops do mob bosses. So tha police are always a threat. Ev’ra crime organization is a threat as weel. Beesides the fact they refuse ta leave Boston and they insist on keepin’ a real job...they put themselves at risk ev’ra time they walk out tha door. If they could keep tha mob out of tha neighborhood, they could keep each other even safer.”

“I guess I’ve never thought about it that way before.”

Noah nodded. “If there is anything that Connor and Murphy can do ta keep each other safe, they will. They put each other first, above everything else,” his words almost sounded like a warning. “Connor and Murphy put each other above Heaven, lass. Ye shouldn’t forget it.”

“Above heaven?” Now she was totally lost.

“If one of them died, tha other would take his own life, so as ta join his brother.”

Megan felt her breath stop but Noah didn’t stop. 

“I heard them one night,” he looked at the wall, seeing a dark night in the past, one that obviously haunted him and she wondered if he had ever told anyone before now. “Connor had been shot. It wasn’t anythin’ serious but I could tell that it shook his brother. They thought I was asleep, otherwise, they wouldn’t have spoken in English,” he smiled at his sons abilities. “Murphy told Connor that he wouldn’t live in this world without him. That if Connor died, Murphy would put a bullet in his head to follow him to Hell.” She wanted to tell Noah to stop, that she didn’t want to hear the brothers talk of their deaths, but she couldn’t make the words come. And Noah seemed incapable of making his words stop. “I heard Connor promise his brother the same thing. And then, I imagine they fell asleep side by side.” Noah sighed. “Ye’ll never meet another set of brothers, of twins even, who are as close as they are. They are loyal to each other first, God second, and everything else comes after.”

“Including you?” She had to ask.

“Aye, including me.” 

Then they lapsed into silence. Megan could feel a headache coming on. Her mind was spilling over with thoughts, all jumbled together and clambering over each other. She couldn’t sort them, couldn’t make sense of them. And the harder she tried, the more agitated she became. She started shaking her foot, then she tapped her fingers against her leg as the minutes dragged on. Granny would call me antsy, she thought. The only thing to be done was to get up and move around. So she did. 

She cleaned the whole apartment. She started in the kitchen and worked until all the dishes and countertops were sparkling. Then she moved on to the laundry. She started what was in the pantry, gathered up her clothes, Connor and Murphy’s clothes, and even asked Noah if she could get his as well. She cleaned the bathroom Noah used and scrubbed the, already clean, bathroom she shared with Connor and Murphy.

And it did exactly what she hoped it would; cleaning was the type of work that only kept the body busy, but the movement actually helped her to think. The first thought she was able to decipher was about the vow between Connor and Murphy that Noah had spoken of. She shuddered as she wiped down the bathroom counter. The idea of losing even one of them hurt worse than she thought it would. But knowing that they wouldn’t live without each other, if one died, the other promised to follow….she shook her head. Taking your own life was a sin, even in the Baptist church she was brought up in. But she knew it was especially abhorrent in the Catholic church. Noah was right: in Connor and Murphy’s minds brother was first, God a glaring second. And while the idea of one of them committing suicide made her physically cringe, she found, after a few minutes of contemplation, that she understood it. Over the past month, it was very clear that Connor and Murphy were more than just brothers. She had thought, more than once, that perhaps they even had a sexual relationship, but that didn’t really seem to be the answer either. It was more like, they were truly two halves of a whole. They couldn’t and wouldn’t be separated. 

And she wondered what that meant for her. With the two of them out in harm’s way, she couldn’t deny, no matter how much she wanted to, that she had feelings for the both of them. For both of them. The realization stopped her up short. She cared for both of them. Somehow, even in the depths of her heart, she didn’t separate them. But what did that mean? She clutched her head; her headache was getting worse. If they put each other first, where did that leave her? Or her feelings?

Not to mention how fucked up her situation was in the first place, she thought. She was their prisoner. She hadn’t seen another soul for a month. Wasn’t there even name for that? She asked herself. For someone who fell for their captor? She wracked her brain, but all she could think of was Beauty and the Beast, and how people said Belle had it. But as to the actual name, she couldn’t think.

Add to that, Connor and Murphy killed for a living. Well not a living, she argued, they had an actual job. But she wasn’t naive, she knew where the majority of their money came from. And, standing in the bedroom, alone, she couldn’t deny what they were. Connor and Murphy were wanted men. By the police, the mob, maybe even half of Boston. And it would be that way until they were caught or killed. 

When she thought those words, she felt her knees go. Thankfully she was standing next to Connor and Murphy’s bed when it happened and she was able to catch herself on it. She sat on the edge as the terror those words brought filled her heart. Following closely was mortification at her feelings. She cared more for them than she realized. She analyzed her feelings, trying to understand the depth of them. They didn’t go as far as love and for that she was thankful. Now that she was fully aware of them, she could control them. She could keep herself from loving Connor and Murphy. She could control herself. At least, she hoped so.


	16. On the Same Page

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's late!

Connor pulled the door closed behind him and he and Murphy set off down the stairs. The sky was almost completely dark and they felt safe in their dark jeans and black coats. Even if they were recognized, in this neighborhood they were safe. They were silent as they made their way to an even more rundown part of the neighborhood. 

Connor could feel the tension coming from Murphy. It was ever present the past few weeks, but now it was even more tangible. He wanted to talk to Murphy, to figure out what was wrong, but it had been impossible to have a private conversation in their apartment since Megan had come into their lives. 

Megan...just thinking about her set Connor’s heart racing. He wondered if Murphy felt the same about the dark haired beauty. He hoped so, sometimes he thought he could feel Murphy thinking of her. But with the tension growing as the days melted away, he couldn’t read Murphy as well as he could before Megan. And that was a problem. As he knocked on the door Father MacDonald had described to them, he resolved then and there to get on the same page with his brother that very night. Their connection was too important. Even when he factored Megan into their lives, Murphy was still more important.

But he had to focus as the face of a terrified woman was revealed through the barely opened door. They were wearing their masks, but Father MacDonald had told her to expect them thus. She let them in and hid them in her pantry. All that was left to do was to wait.

It wasn’t long before they heard banging on the front door. The woman let them in and soon shouting could be heard throughout the house. It was time. Connor looked Murphy in the eye, they nodded, drew their weapons, and charged from the pantry. 

Everything was chaos. They fired on the thugs closest to the kitchen and soon every gun in the house was aimed at them.

_"The Saints!”_ They all screamed in Russian. Connor and Murphy never tired of the sound of grown men screaming like that, proving they weren’t as tough as they made out to be. Connor counted each man he and Murphy took down. And when they were surrounded by five dead men, Connor lowered his gun.

“Is that everyone?” He asked Murphy.

“Aye, I only counted five when we came in.”

But just as soon as the words left his mouth, a blood curdling scream came from the kitchen. They brought their guns back up and cautiously followed the sound.

When they entered the kitchen, they saw the very woman they were trying to protect, being held by one of the Russian men. He was holding a knife to her throat. 

“Please, please,” the woman begged sounding so much like Megan, both brothers feeling it as it that knife had been plunged into their guts.

“Put your guns down!” The man yelled at them in heavily accented English. “Put them down!”

Not another fucking Russian, Connor thought. He saw Murphy lower his guns out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t move.

“I said, put your-”

_“I heard what you said,”_ Connor interrupted the man in perfect Russian before he pulled the trigger. The man dropped to the floor, dead, the woman sprayed with blood, fell away from him. Murphy holstered his guns and went to help the woman up from the floor.

“Are ye alright?” She nodded but didn’t speak. Connor put away his own weapons and they set about cleaning up their mess. When the house was cleared, Connor turned to the woman. She was shaken, but mercifully unhurt.

“If ye have any more problems, let Father MacDonald know, he’ll get the message to us. Wait about half an hour, then call the police.” And they walked out the door.

Murphy could tell Connor was pissed, but he was as well. Mistake after mistake. Their last three hits had gone poorly. The first with their Da being shot over a year ago, the second with Megan, and now this one with a miscount of men and the complete mishandling of the situation. 

They walked home in silence, both of them fuming over what had happened. Combined with their tension from the last few weeks, it was only a matter of time until their tempers spilled over. And it happened when they reached the stairs that led to their apartment. Murphy wasn’t paying attention to how close he was to Connor and he stepped on his foot when Connor tried to push in front of him.

“Seriously, Murph? How many fuckin’ mistakes can ye make in one night?” Connor shoved him.

“Fuck you!” Murphy shoved back. _“It wasn’t my fucking fault!”_ He switched to German, just in case someone could hear them; and as they ascended the stairs it was becoming more likely that their Da and Megan would hear them.

_“The fuck it wasn’t. You said you only counted five men!”_

_“And I did count five! I can fucking count, Connor! And you didn’t have to shoot the guy while he was holding the poor woman. She’ll probably be scarred for life after tonight!”_

They reached their apartment door and used the key to open it but they were still shouting at each other in German and didn’t even notice their father on the couch, or Megan beside the kitchen table.

_“Oh how sensitive of you, Murphy to consider her feelings over her life. I’m sure she appreciates it.”_

_“Fuck you,”_ Murphy said again. They were now standing between the living room and the kitchen, completely unaware of their audience. It was just Connor and Murphy, their tempers and tension.

_“How many times do I have to tell you we can’t make mistakes like that?”_

“What about your mistakes, Connor? You fucking act like you’re perfect. You could have killed that woman. And what about last year, when Da was shot? You just stopped everything you were doing! You were almost shot! If it hadn’t been for me, your mistake filled brother, you would have been killed! Did you even see the guy before I shot him that night? And what about Megan?”

“What about Megan?” If Connor wasn’t angry before, he was furious now. Bringing up Megan was a hit below the belt and they both knew it, but Murphy did it anyway.

_“Who’s idea was it to take our masks off? To take her with us?”_

_“Who’s idea was it to fucking keep her, then?”_

_“Because you had such a better idea. Are you telling me you would have put a fucking gun to her head and killed her?”_

_“Of course not, are you fucking insane? From the first moment I laid eyes on her I-”_

But Connor stopped, terrified to admit, even to his brother, the depth of his feelings for their girl.

_“You what, Connor?”_ Murphy wasn’t shouting anymore but his voice was still loud. _“You wanted her?”_

_“Yes,”_ Connor finally admitted it and Murphy was brought up short. _“I want her and I’m terrified that you don’t, Murphy. And we can’t talk about her, because she’s always around. And God knows we shouldn’t have made this execution tonight, because we weren’t-”_

_“On the same page,”_ Murphy finished quietly. And he looked Connor in the eye, leveling with his brother. And their connection reignited, louder and stronger than ever. _“Yes, Connor, I want her, but we can’t have her, if we’re not alright with each other first. Besides, that might not be what she wants, and we need to be able to lean on each other if that happens."_

_“Wow, Murphy, I never heard you speak so beautifully,”_ Connor sniggered.

_“Shut the fuck up,”_ Murphy replied. _“Can we fix this? Without worrying about Megan?”_

Connor knew what his brother needed. He could feel it radiating from him. They hadn’t showered together since Megan’s first night and now they were feeling the consequences of it. They were too far apart in spirit, because they had worried about what she might think. But that worry had to fall away; they had to take care of each other.

_“Yes,”_ Connor answered. _“Let’s go fix it.”_

When they were finally on the same page, their surroundings snapped back into focus. Megan was standing behind Murphy, a wary look on her face. Connor knew that, while she couldn’t understand German, they had said her name a lot and he felt his face flush. They had just did what they determined not to do for the past month: talk about her in front of her. Connor wanted to apologize, he could feel contrition coming from Murphy as well. 

Their Da was standing in front of the couch. He looked like he was ready to break up a fight. Murphy was glad that it hadn’t come to that; if Noah intervened, the possibility of him getting hurt was high. 

“Sorry,” they both said at the same time, Connor looking at Megan, Murphy at their Da. But they didn’t give either person a chance to reply. In perfect sync, they took off their peacoats and rosaries and hung them by the door. Connor picked up the forgotten duffle bag and led the way to the bedroom. He tossed it on the bed but didn’t stop. He walked straight to the bathroom, feeling Murphy right on his heels. He turned on the shower as his brother closed the door.

They stripped and Murphy climbed in first, he could feel his twin right behind him. He turned as soon as Connor’s feet were planted in the bathtub and closed the distance between them.

_“I love you, brother,”_ Murphy said in Irish as he put a hand on the back of Connor’s neck. Connor put his hands on Murphy’s waist.

_“I love you, too, brother,”_ he replied, touching his forehead to Murphy’s.

_“I sought my soul, but my soul I could not see,”_ Murphy started.

_“I sought my God, and my God eluded me,”_ Connor continued.

Together they finished, _“I sought my brother and found all three.”_

Connor couldn’t wait any longer. He closed what little distance remained between them and pressed his lips to Murphy’s. They hadn’t recited those verses in a long time, but it was something they lived by. Not being from the Bible, their Ma had always chastised them for treating them as though they were. But they didn’t care. Connor and Murphy were two halves of a whole and they long ago accepted that fact. Murphy knew Connor’s soul, maybe even better than he knew it himself. But only because Connor knew Murphy’s soul better than his own. They knew each other’s darkest fears and desires, both of which involved each other. 

Their kiss became heated, more insistent as they reconnected. They needed each other in ways that no one else could understand. Murphy pulled away after a few more seconds, knowing what Connor was thinking.

_“What if she never understands?”_ Connor voiced his fear.

_“Then we have each other,”_ Murphy tried to be the voice of reason. But he had to admit that it hurt to think that she may not be the one for them. _“We just take our time, let things happen gradually.”_

Connor nodded. _“No executions. Not for a while.”_

Murphy nodded in agreement before he kissed his twin again, needing the contact. They pressed their flesh together, the touch doing things to their bodies that they stopped fighting long ago. But they both wished for more, wished for Megan. 

_“She fit perfectly that day, didn’t she?”_ Connor asked, referring to the first time they let her call her brother. 

_“I haven’t stopped thinking about it since,”_ Murphy said as an answer.

_“Why didn’t you tell me?”_ Connor asked as he put his hand to his brother’s cheek.

_“When was I supposed to, Connor? Between being surrounded here and going to work and to Mass?”_

_“And…”_ Connor knew that wasn’t all.

_“And I had hoped that it would go away.”_

_“I felt the same,”_ Connor confirmed for his brother. _“She’s a prisoner after all,” he continued, “it’s a risk. A very dangerous one.”_

_“Aye. How selfish do we have to be to ask her to take that risk?”_

Connor didn’t have an answer. But he did say, in English, “Fuck, I wish we had brought the whiskey bottle in here with us.”

The words had barely left his lips when they heard the bathroom door open. They went rigid instantly; it had to be Megan, their father wouldn’t dare, but neither had she before now. What would she think? They both wondered. They barely had time to think about what to do when her hesitant voice broke the silence.

“Connor? Murphy?”

“Aye?” They both answered her.

“I thought you might want this,” a hand reached around the curtain. Connor turned and saw the bottle of Jameson in her hand. 

He took it from her automatically, his shock overpowering everything but the most basic reactions. “Thank ye, lass,” he managed to say.

“Your cigarettes and a lighter are on the back of the toilet,” she told them and then she must have left, because they heard the door close followed by silence.

Connor and Murphy looked at each other in amazement.

“How tha fuck did she know to do tha’?” Murphy asked, too shocked to switch languages.

Connor unscrewed the cap of the bottle and took a large sip, then he handed the bottle to his brother. ”I couldn’t even begin ta fuckin’ guess,” he replied. 

“Do ye think she noticed-“

“That we were in here tagether? O’ course she noticed, Murph.”

“She didn’t say anythin’.”

“No,” Connor realized, his voice full of shock. “She didn’t.”

“She does already know that we sleep in tha same bed….” Murphy hedge, not wanting to get his hopes up.

“Aye, but this is a mite different, eh?”

“Aye, I s’pose et is,” Murphy admitted.

They looked each other in the eye, the same question reflecting back to each brother: what did it mean and what were they going to do about it?


	17. A Lot of Work to Do

The next morning, Megan woke up just as Connor and Murphy were coming out of the bathroom. She scrambled out of her bed and hurried to the kitchen to get her breakfast and lunch. By the time she got back, the twins were pulling their sweaters on. She settled on her mattress, waiting for them to leave and lock the door.

“We may be late tanight, lass,” Connor told her hesitantly.

“Do ye have yer lunch?” Murphy asked her, obviously taking the words from his brother.

“Yes,” she answered automatically, still surprised after all this time when they did that. The twins paused and she could tell they both wanted to say more but Connor shook his head and Murphy sighed. Connor gave his brother a small shove and they both left the room, closed the door and locked her in.

Megan fell back on her mattress, her breakfast forgotten. The onslaught of emotions was too much. It was more confusing than last night, than the whole of yesterday. She should have stopped the brothers before they left, interrupted, made them listen to what she wanted to say. Which was…what?

She pulled her fingers through her hair when she recalled the way Connor and Murphy looked at her before they left. Like they were terrified that she was a bomb about to explode. Or worse, confront them about the night before. But from her perspective, there wasn’t anything to talk about. First of all, she reasoned, she should have knocked. 

They did leave the door unlocked, she’d argued with herself last night night. Still, it was kind of rude. But she just couldn’t shake that crazy feeling that she had to take that bottle of whiskey to them right then. It wasn’t rational, but she couldn’t deny it. Instead, she listened to it and walked right in, finding Connor and Murphy in the shower...together. At first, she just felt shock. But soon, it tapered into acceptance, bypassing any other emotion that should have made an appearance. They slept in the same bed, why should this be any different?

Noah’s words resounded in her head, _You’ll never meet two brother’s who are closer._ She was just beginning to understand how true that really was. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized it was just….them. What the rest of the world might call unnatural, was perfectly normal for them. She still didn’t know what to call it; she had this screaming feeling in her gut that said they did not have sex with each other. She scratched her head, literally and figuratively. She didn’t know what to make of their relationship and all of the other feelings she kept having were confusing and frustrating.

She wished more than ever that she’d been able to talk to them before they left, but even with all of her reasoning she still had no idea what she would have said. _Just so you know, if you are having an incestuous relationship, I’m ok with it?_ She heard the words in her head and groaned.

Out loud, she said, “You are such a fucking idiot.” She would have laid in bed all day and never moved, but her stomach grumbled. So she sat up and ate her breakfast, her mind running in circles again.

 

After lunch, she decided to go through her sewing box to see if there was anything small she could do. She took her time, laying everything out neatly on her mattress. There was very little fabric in it, only a few spools of thread, and no yarn to be found. She had ample amount of sewing needles, straight pins, thimbles, and even multiple pairs of thread scissors. She did uncover her button box, which brought tears to her eyes; some of those buttons belonged to her great-grandmother and she would have been devastated if she lost them. But under the button box, was an even more precious heirloom that she had forgotten was there. Her grandmother’s old, worn knitting needles. She took them out and clutched them to her chest. For the second time in two days, she sent a prayer heavenward. This one a prayer of thanks for Paul Smecker for being kind enough to risk the trip to her old apartment.

It was a prayer very different from the one she thought last night, the one for Connor and Murphy as they left. She tried to stop the thoughts of them, but it was impossible. As they invaded her mind, she looked down at the knitting needles in her hands and an idea began to take form.

She was thinking that her first step would be to ask Connor and Murphy if she could call Paul, when she heard something odd. The front door of the apartment opened. It was quiet enough in the apartment that she could hear the footsteps move from the living room, to the kitchen, and then down the hall. Her heart beat faster. It couldn’t be the brothers; they weren’t due back from work for hours. And Noah was very consistent in his schedule, if a little private about it. He wouldn’t be back until the twins were. Was someone breaking in? If so, they were very quiet thieves. She gripped a needle in each hand. Although they were old, they were still sharp and they could do some damage if there was force behind them. She was formulating a plan when they doorknob turned and the door swung open to reveal Paul Smecker.

She dropped her makeshift weapons immediately and ran to him, “Paul!” She exclaimed as she threw her arms around his neck.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” He chuckled and gave her a quick hug, before he released her and she did the same. “How’ve ya been?”

She took a deep breath, “I’m ok. What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you, of course.”

“How’d you get in?”

“Connor and Murphy gave me a key years ago. Just in case,” he held up the single brass key to show her. “I had the day off and thought I’d swing by.”

“I’m surprised you had the day off, what with the mess the two of them probably left last night.”

“What mess?” He demanded to know. And she explained the hit that Connor and Murphy had done the previous night. “Those two are too smart for their own good. They didn’t call me in for that, although I heard about it. It was several blocks from here, but still considered in the neighborhood. They didn’t put pennies on their eyes. Boston PD immediately assumed it was someone else.”

“You won’t say anythin’ will you?” She was immediately concerned about Connor and Murphy’s safety.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” he assured her. “I’ve been helping them for the past five years. The world needs those two. C’mon,” he sat down on the brother’s bed and patted it for her to sit down as well, “How are things? With you?”

She sat next to him and decided to be honest. “It’s quiet. They’re gone a lot. I stay as busy as possible, but there’s only so much to clean in here.” She gestured around the room, which was indeed immaculate. 

“Have you finished all the books yet?”

She jumped up remembering her list, “Not all of them, but I have started making a list of some new ones….if you don’t mind?”

“Of course not, sweetheart. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

Megan hesitated. She knew what she wanted, but it would get expensive and she had no idea where the twins kept the money they pocketed after each hit. But she had to do something to stay busy.

“Actually,” she bit her lip, “could you get me some yarn?” Paul looked curious and she spent the next ten minutes explaining what she wanted and why, what type and how much to get.

When she was finished, Paul was shaking his head and she backpedaled. “If it’s too much-“

“No,” he stopped her. “There’s no such thing. Those boys have no idea how lucky they are to have you.” He patted her knee before he stood. “I’ll be back this evening with books and yarn.” He started to walk away but turned back to her. “Would you like to have a radio? So it’s not so quiet?”

“Yes!” Her eyes lit up at the thought.

“I’ll find something. What kind of music do you listen to?”

She named several artists she liked and on a whim, stopped him one last time. “Would you like to stay for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. The boys eat too much Chinese takeout for my taste.”

“Oh no, we’re having lemon butter chicken tonight, with green beans and mashed potatoes. I took over the kitchen duties pretty fast. I can’t eat takeout every day. Please stay. We have plenty.”

“You mean you cook for them too?”

“Well….yeah,” she shrugged.

“And they still lock you in here everyday?”

“It’s really not that bad,” she answered quietly, not meeting his eyes. “They’re doing this amazing thing for me, in return and it’s…..it’s nice to be….out of the business.” She looked up at him. “It’s not what I would have chosen for myself, but the people who depend on me are taken care of, and Connor and Murphy are very courteous and they try so hard to make things easier. I just want to make the best of it. I know I could wallow and pity myself every day, but if I do, I will go crazy. I keep my chin up. I do what I can, and I try to look at each day with some kind of positive attitude.”

When she finished, she saw something in Paul’s eyes, something he wouldn’t say out loud, but it was there nonetheless. It was pride; he was proud of her. 

He smiled at her and nodded. “I’ll be back this evening. Sometime around seven. Is that alright for dinner?”

She felt her smile widen as far as it could go. “Yes it is,” she told him.

They said their goodbyes and he left, locking her in as he did so. It was good to see him again, she thought, as she repacked her sewing box. This time, she made sure to put the knitting needles right on top. She was going to need them in the coming weeks; she had a lot of work to do.


	18. Protect It For All It's Worth

It was a very long day. They were late for work; it took longer than usual to send the money to Megan’s mother. Because of that, they had to skip Mass and it made their day long and their tempers high. Murphy could feel Connor’s mind buzzing all day, but he refrained from asking because he knew what was wrong with his brother. It was the same thing that had been at the forefront of his own mind all day.

Despite agreeing last night to not let themselves worry about Megan’s opinion of them, that was exactly what they were doing. She hadn’t said a word when they got out of the shower, she looked very engrossed in the book she was reading. She only said “Goodnight, sleep well,” as Connor turned off the lights. It was what she said every night. And Connor and Murphy were both incredulous and it took them forever to go to sleep; whereas Megan’s soft snores filled the room less than half an hour after the lights went off. It was extremely confusing for them and they desperately wanted to know what she was thinking.

Murphy thought that Connor was going to ask before they left, but the words stuck in his throat; even Murphy could feel them, trapped there, unable to be released. Connor’s mood just went downhill from there, and by default, so did Murphy’s. 

They decided to go to evening Mass, after work. It made them late for dinner, but they both shook the guilt from their shoulders. Their Da would let Megan out and they would make their apologies when they got home. Unfortunately Mass did not have the desired effect and they walked home, both dreading the reception when they got there. So much so, that when they reached the steps that led to their apartment, they stopped, unable to begin the climb.

_“We’re going to have to talk to her, Connor,”_ Murphy told his twin in Irish.

_“And say what, Murph?”_

_“Just….”_ Murphy ran his hand through his hair, a gesture usually reserved for Connor, “ _ask her if she has any questions. Tell her that we don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.”_

Connor looked at his brother, his mouth hanging wide open.

_“What?”_

Connor shook his head. _“Maybe you should do it.”_

_“Conn, I’m no good at that shit.”_

_“When it comes to Megan, you are.”_ Connor wasn’t jealous or angry with his brother, he was just stating the facts. He had to admit that there was something about Megan that made him lose his mind, but it seemed she had the opposite effect on Murphy. But it had always been that way with them. If one of them was found lacking, the other picked up the slack. They balanced each other.

Connor moved first, only because Murphy put his hand on his back in encouragement. And they slowly climbed the stairs together. They got to the door and Connor was going to unlock it when they both stopped. They could hear laughter coming through the closed door. Megan’s laughter and another male voice. They looked at each other puzzled and turned the knob.

“‘Bout time. Dinner’s ready, if y’all wanna go get cleaned up.” Megan’s voice and smile greeted them once the door was opened. She looked happy and expectant and it made their hearts skip a beat.

“Such a proper southern lady,” a gravelly voice drew the brothers’ eyes away from the beauty holding the dish of green beans to the familiar face of Paul Smecker.

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Paul,” Megan teased back. She was so at ease around him, but when she looked back up at Connor and Murphy her eyes were full of apprehension. “I hope it’s ok, I asked Paul to stay for supper.”

“Of course.”

“Sure.” Connor and Murphy spoke at the same time and then looked at their father, who was also sitting at the table.

“Weel, go on,” Noah nodded to them, “we’re waiting on ye two.” His gaze was pointed, silently telling them to get their shit together. 

Connor felt Murphy give him another small shove, unseen by everyone else, and they took off their peacoats and rosaries and headed to the kitchen to wash their hands. It made them feel small, boyish, almost. They hadn’t been told to wash up for dinner since they were young boys living in Ireland. Once they finished, they went back to the table to find that Megan had fixed their plates and set them in front of their usual chairs. Her simple gesture was felt deeply by the both of them; they were just beginning to realize how special a woman they kept locked away in their bedroom. 

Connor and Murphy sat together, as usual. On the opposite side, Paul sat next to their Da. And at the head of the table sat Megan, looking like a proud mother viewing the fruits of her labor at a holiday feast. Everyone dug in and the conversation ebbed and flowed around the food. And Connor and Murphy couldn’t deny that, once again, she had cooked an excellent meal. Not even their Ma was this good of a cook. And since the two of them were starving from a long day of work, anything that wasn’t claimed by anyone else was eaten by them.

“I’m glad I don’t eat here everyday,” Paul said after watching them for a few minutes. “I would get tired of having to fight for my food.”

Megan gave a small laugh, that was the most beautiful music to them. “You stake your claim early and protect it for all it’s worth.”

“How do you keep up?” Paul asked her.

“Well, I guess it’s just about having enough ingredients,” she gave a nod to Noah.

Noah held up his hands, “I jus’ follow orders. She’s tha one that makes et all come tagether.”

Megan blushed and started gathering the empty plates, by way of diverting their praise. “I’m glad you stayed tonight, Paul. And thank you again, for all the stuff you brought.”

Connor looked at his brother with a question in his eyes. Murphy only shrugged not knowing what she was talking about. Surprisingly, it was Megan that answered the unspoken question.

“Paul had an off day today, and was kind enough to stop by to see if I needed anything.”

“That key come in handy?” Connor asked Paul, his eyes narrowed.

“Scared me half to death,” Megan said, unknowing that Paul and Connor were having a staring contest across the table. “I thought someone was breaking in. I was getting ready to attack him with a knitting needle.”

And that broke the tension. Murphy burst out laughing, just imagining petite Megan gripping a knitting needle to use a weapon. And Murphy’s laughter was infectious. First, Megan got tickled from it, then Paul started laughing, and finally, Connor relaxed and joined in. Even Noah let out a low chuckle. 

“I should be going,” Paul said. “Thank you, sweetheart, for inviting me.” He stood and gave Megan a quick hug. “Connor, Murphy,” he nodded at each of them twins and they followed him out the door, catching the look of apprehension Megan couldn’t quite disguise.

Connor and Murphy knew they were in for it. Paul turned around and raised his finger, ready to give them the tongue lashing of their lives but he stopped, closed his mouth and dropped his hand. He tried again, but again, he stopped. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. Still, Connor and Murphy waited patiently.

Finally, Paul found his voice but his anger was gone. “I hope the two of you have finally realized how special that girl is. Don’t wait for me to come back to see her. Take care of her. She deserves so much more than this.” Shaking his head, not even looking at them, he turned and walked down the stairs.

Connor and Murphy trudged back through the door. Past their father, who only nodded at them. And down the hall to their bedroom. They stopped in the doorway when they saw that Megan was already there, kneeling next to her mattress, which was covered in bags. She hadn’t heard them, and they stayed silent as they watched her. All of her focus was on those bags and they saw her dig through them in wonder. She had already taken out a radio, and was looking through several cds Paul had undoubtedly bought for her. They jumped when they heard her gasp at one, but she still didn’t notice them. She looked closely at the cover and clutched it close to her chest before she put it aside and started looking through the stack of books. 

Connor saw three Harry Potter books but that was all he could make out. He thought she might be holding back tears and he finally understood why Paul was so mad at them. 

They had been taking care of her, but just barely. He had told them that first night to keep her entertained and they hadn’t thought about it since then. And it was a pretty poor way to repay her kindness towards them. Her meals were always delicious. They never wanted for clean clothes. The bathroom was always spotless. And she didn’t have to do any of these things; she chose to do them. The least they could do was give her things that made her happy.

Connor could feel the sadness and self disappointment coming from Murphy and he knew they were on the same page. They saw her put her books aside and she started looking through the other bags. It took the brothers a few moments to realize she was pulling out skeins of yarn. The rest of the bags, and there had to be at least ten of them, were completely filled with yarn. She seemed to be taking stock of everything she had. 

Murphy pressed his hand to the small of Connor’s back, giving strength and instruction all in one. Connor stepped into the room and walked to the bed, Murphy right beside him. They saw her tense when she heard their footsteps, but she didn’t turn around and they kept moving until they were both sitting on their bed, on the side closest to her. Neither of them spoke and she finally turned to face them, still on her knees.

“What?” She asked, her voice tired, exasperated, but tense and nervous. They looked at each other and Connor nodded to Murphy, indicating that he should take the lead.

“About last night, lass….we can…..if ye have questions, ye can….” But even Murphy couldn’t make the words come and the shock on her face stammered him to silence. It wasn’t what she had been expecting, that much was certain.

“Oh,” her brow furrowed at the direction of the conversation. But then she shrugged and looked at both of them. “I don’t,” she said with complete confidence. 

“What?” Murphy couldn’t believe it and Connor just stared at her like he’d never seen her before. Murphy had to elbow him in the ribs so that he’d shut his mouth. 

She shrugged again, “It’s not really any of my business. And even if it was, I don’t see anything wrong with it. Besides,” she kept going, “I owe both of you an apology. I shouldn’t’ve just barged in there like that. And,” she hesitated but steeled herself to finish what she wanted to say, “If the two of you need some time to yourselves, I can always go to the living room or kitchen. It can’t be easy, having me around all the time.” As she finished, she looked away from them and Murphy and Connor could both feel the unease she carried. Thankfully, Connor seemed to snap out of his amazement.

“We don’t want ye to feel unwelcome in yer own room,” Connor said gently. “Don’t ye worry none about me and Murph. And we appreciate yer apology, but I have been itchin’ ta ask ye something,” he waited until she looked back up at them. “How did ye know to bring the whiskey?”

Her brow furrowed again. “What do you mean?”

Connor nodded at this twin again, for him to take the lead and Murphy obliged him. “Last night when we were… anyway, Connor had just said he wished tha’ we had brought tha bottle of whiskey in there with us, when, not a second later, ye brought et to us. How’d ye know ta do that?”

She shrugged. “Last night...the two of you seemed really…..pissed.”

“Aye, we were,” Connor encouraged her.

“And then at the end of that argument…. Well I guess it was an argument. I don’t speak German,” she gestured to herself emphatically. “But anyway….it seemed like y’all were set on something. You both looked determined as hell, like you were about to hash out whatever was eatin’ at ya. But then y’all came back here. I figured you wanted some space, but I also figured you could both use a shot of whiskey. I couldn’t get that idea out of my head, so I finally just did it. I should have knocked, though,” she said once more. 

It was an explanation they weren’t expecting. The only time they experienced that kind of intuition was with each other. Not even their Da could anticipate a need from them. Connor and Murphy looked at each other, curiosity, trepidation, and wonder bouncing between them through their connection. But they also felt something else: a determination to find some normalcy. They couldn’t keep tiptoeing around her and she around them.

“Here’s tha rub, lass,” Connor began, “Murphy and I are….”

“Close,” she finished for him.

“Aye,” Murphy said.

“Closer than most brothers, I imagine,” Connor continued. “We don’t want ta make ye feel uncomfortable, but we can’t keep doing this….this…..” but he couldn’t find the words.

To their lessening surprise, she found them first. “This awkward dance we’ve all been doing for the past month?”

“Aye,” Connor agreed in amazement. 

“Y’all don’t make me uncomfortable,” she told them. “You should do whatever you need to do. And maybe, even with all this….weird situation,” she moved her hands around as she was searching for the words, “maybe we can be friends? I don’t think this room can handle any more tension,” she chuckled as she finished.

“You noticed that?” Murphy asked, worrying the inside of his lip with his teeth.

“A blind man could have noticed it,” she replied, cheekily. Murphy and Connor both laughed, said tension leaving the both of them. It was wonderful to see Megan’s sassy side. Most of the time it seemed that she was walking on eggshells around them, but now, she was letting her guard down. 

“We’re sorry, lass,” Connor said.

“I’m sorry, too,” Megan replied softly, but smiling as she said it. She stood and walked over to them both and extended her hand first to Connor. “Friends?”

“Shouldn’t we spit in it first?” Connor teased her, she withdrew her hand and then it shot forward and she pushed Connor’s shoulder with surprising strength. It took him off guard and he fell back on the bed. Murphy burst out laughing as Connor sat back up and scowled at him.

“Ye always get beat up by a girl!” Murphy was laughing so hard he didn’t see the look and nod that his brother gave Megan. He did feel it when her hand connected with his shoulder but since he was sitting on the corner of the bed, instead of just falling backwards, he fell off the bed completely.

Now it was Megan’s turn to laugh as Connor took advantage of his brother’s position. He launched himself on top of his twin. Murphy tried to grab his arms but Connor got the best of him.

“Over here, lass,” Connor instructed her and Murphy watched as she stepped hesitantly to them. “C’mon then,” he encouraged and she knelt down next to them. “Now, if ye just get right in the middle of his ribs, that’s his ticklish-“

“Fuck no!” Murphy realized what Connor was trying to get her to do and started to thrash uncontrollably, bucking under Connor but to no avail. “You fuckin’ bastard, fightin’ unfair! You’re already stronger than me, Connor!” He tried to buck again but Connor just smirked at him. 

“Go on, lass!” Connor laughed at his twin. But Megan was unexpected again. She moved, but not in the direction he expected. Since his focus was on Murphy, he never saw her hands go for the exact spot he had described, but on his ribs instead of Murphy’s. 

“Ah!” He cried as he jerked away from her and his brother and landed painfully on the floor. Murphy took advantage and sat on Connor’s lap. He leaned over, grabbed Megan and sat her on Connor’s chest.

“Ha!” Murphy yelled, triumphantly. “I’d like to see you move the both of us, Conn.” To Megan, he said, “He never fuckin’ fights fair. He’s just a wee bit stronger than I and I’ve been punished for it me whole life.”

“Yeah well, I still came out first!” Connor yelled.

“The fuck you did, Conn!”

“What?” Megan laughed out the question and she looked from one brother to the other.

“Our mother refuses ta tell us who was born first,” Murphy explained.

“Crazy fuckin’ woman,” Connor added.

“Hey!” Megan interjected, smacking his head lightly. “Don’t talk about your momma that way.”

Her accent was so thick when she told him that, both brothers laughed, hard and loud. It was a little difficult for Connor, since Murphy and Megan were on his torso but he laughed nonetheless.

“Yer accent, lass, I’ll ne’er get tired of hearin’ et,” Connor said. 

“Oh you’re one to talk!” 

“Aye, Conn,” Murphy agreed, “your brogue is a lot thicker than mine.”

“Yeah weel, yer cock’s not, that’s for sure.”

“Is not!” Murphy cried like a petulant child. But Megan’s giggles could be heard above all else. She couldn’t breathe she was laughing so hard at them. Connor and Murphy smiled at each other, loving the sound of her laughter. They decided their next move only after a second’s hesitation. Connor attacked from the front, while Murphy moved behind, both tickling her ribs and stomach. She yelped and jumped to the side. Murphy caught her before she could hit the floor and eased her off of Connor. She laid down in the floor, giggling and smiling, as Murphy got off his brother and laid down in the floor on her other side, so that she was between the two of them.

“I can’t remember the last time I did something like this,” she told them, a bit more soberly.

“Aye?” Connor asked.

“Cody was only six when I left home. We horsed around a little bit, but he was always such a small kid, and I didn’t used to be so skinny.”

“Eh, it wouldn’t hurt ya none to put it back on,” Murphy said absently. And Connor and Megan both raised their heads to look at him, incredulously. “What? If I can left ye, Meg, ye don’t weigh enough.”

“I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever said that I needed to gain weight,” she said laying her head back down. 

Connor and Murphy were both thinking back to her first morning with them, when she was excited about milk. She had put a few pounds back on, but for Murphy, it wasn’t enough. He could feel her ribs when he lifted her earlier. 

Megan continued, breaking their thoughts, “When I first started at the club, the owner told me he wouldn’t let me dance until I lost weight,” she explained. “I needed the money, so I did it. But once it’s off, you gotta keep it off.” Now Connor and Murphy looked at her. “The weight! I meant the weight. Jeez…” she took a deep breath. “If I keep drinking all this whole milk it’ll come back. Didn’t anyone teach y’all to not talk about a woman’s weight.”

“I thought that was age,” Connor said.

“Well, that’s rude too,” she told him. “You never ask a lady her age or weight. And you don’t bring up religion or politics unless she’s forthcomin’ about it.”

“Weel, then,” Murphy leaned up on his elbow, “we’re Catholic, and we don’t give a damn about American politics. What about you?”

“I just said the woman has to bring it up,” she hit his arm lightly. But she answered him, “I haven’t had a tv in so long to even keep up with politics, so we could be in world war 3 right now, and I wouldn’t have a fuckin’ clue. But religion?” She sighed. “I was raised Methodist. But after having a little brother suffer through four years of cancer….not to mention, everything I’ve done to help try to save him….religion hasn’t served me very well the past few years,” she finished.

Connor and Murphy looked at each other over her head. Their faith was so centric in their lives, but they could understand how Megan had lost hers. They both felt a longing deep within them, a desire to take her to Mass with them, to show her the beauty and wonder of the God they believed in. But reality came crashing down around them when they realized that it was impossible. She was still their prisoner and letting her out of the apartment would be dangerous, not only for them but for her as well.

They would never tell her but over the past weeks, the Boston detectives had heard many rumors floating through the precinct. Rumors of mob bosses offering a reward for the hooker who escaped the judgmental hand of the MacManus brothers.


	19. Crossing a Line

Before she realized it, Megan had been living with the MacManus brothers for two months. She knew that, technically, she was still a prisoner, but she couldn’t think of herself that way anymore. Ever since that night in October, she was much more relaxed around the twins. They talked, joked, and occasionally rough housed the way they did that night a month ago. She smiled at that thought; she always assisted Murphy in besting his brother, knowing her involvement evened the odds between the two of them. There were many more smiles and a lot less tension between the three of them. The only person who seemed unsettled by the blossoming friendship was Noah. She noticed every night, at dinner, he became more quiet and surly with each passing day. He would watch the three of them exchange the news of their day, Megan’s being a little more boring than Connor and Murphy’s. But the brothers always asked and showed an interest in her drab hours. She was always careful to not explain everything that she was doing.   
She smiled to herself as she scrubbed the dishes; her knitting was coming along perfectly. She knew she was guessing at the sizes, but she was doing the best she could. 

Coupled with the radio Paul got her, she could spend hours knitting. It helped the days pass so much more quickly. It also brought her a peace that she hadn’t realized she needed. It gave purpose to her days and coupled with the new friendly relationship she had with Connor and Murphy, she found that she was happier than she had been in a long time. 

At the moment, she was cleaning up after dinner. She made fried chicken that night and the kitchen was a bit of a mess, but it was all worth it to see Connor and Murphy’s reactions.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten fried chicken that didn’t come out of a bucket,” Connor said, licking the grease off his fingers.

“Aye,” Murphy agreed, “and we never will again. Yer trying to make us fat aren’t ye, Meg?”

Megan had blushed, not only at Murphy’s statement but at the nickname he had taken up in the last month. They rarely used her full name; Connor still called her “lass,” but Murphy called her “Meg” now and she loved it.

“Yeah, well, I need to return the favor don’t I,” she said winking at them. She had finally started putting on weight, so much so that she had to tell the twins that she needed new clothes. She had been so embarrassed to explain that her almost brand new clothes were now too small, but they had been supportive and understanding; Murphy had been almost enthusiastic. They called Paul and he had showed up the next day with new clothes that fit.

“I think Murphy could use the extra weight,” Connor ribbed him.

“I can’t gain any if ye keep eatin’ off my plate, ye fuckin’ pig,” Murphy replied. And indeed, Connor had just snaked the last bite of chicken from his brother’s plate. 

Megan kept scrubbing the dishes but her smiled slid from her face as she remembered how thin Noah’s mouth had gotten as he watched them. She looked around the corner of the kitchen and saw the three of them sitting on the couch, Noah flipping through the tv channels. As her eyes slid to the tv, she saw Val Kilmer, dressed in late 19th century clothing, his lips moving to the words “Isn’t that a daisy?”

She dropped the plate she was holding and it clattered into the sink. But she barely heard it. Her feet moved to the living room just as Noah changed the channel.

“Wait!” She called out and all three of them turned to her. “Will you go back, please, Noah? Please?”

He scowled at her but did as she asked.

“What is et, lass?” Connor asked.

“Tombstone,” she said with a smile. “It’s close to the beginning too. It’s a great movie. One of my favorites.”

“Never heard of it,” Noah said sourly and he picked up the remote to change it again.

“Wait,” Murphy stopped him. “Ye said et’s one of yer favorites, Meg.”

It wasn’t a question so she replied with one, “Yeah?”

“Weel come in here and watch et,” Connor finished. But Noah’s attitude stopped her.

“I should um, I should finish cleaning the kitchen,” she started to turn away.

“Leave et fer later, lass. Come sit down and watch yer movie.” At Connor’s instruction, Noah spat something Irish but Connor snapped back and silenced Noah quickly. 

“Come on, Megan,” Murphy said. And she finally moved forward, trying to ignore Noah. But it was hard, since there was no more room on the couch and none of them had moved. 

“Umm-“

“Here, lass,” Connor went to stand, to give her his spot, but that would put her next to Noah.

“No, it ok,” she stepped over Murphy’s feet so that she was between his and Connor’s legs. There was a little bit of space between the brothers and she decided to take advantage of it. “Here,” she knelt down, “just move your legs a bit so that I can lean against the couch.” They did as she asked and soon she was comfortably settled on the floor, the brothers legs pressing against her sides. She sighed contentedly and relaxed. As much as she didn’t want to, Megan had to admit how wonderful it felt to be in between Connor and Murphy. She had tried to fight it the past month, after she swore to herself that she would keep her feelings in check. She thought that when they all agreed to be friends that would satisfy the confusing emotions that coursed through her heart on a daily basis. But it hadn’t. She wanted more. She wanted them. And the more she wanted them, the more confusing her mind became. Everything in her heart was impossible to reconcile: knowing she was still a prisoner, but feeling safe in her captivity. The MacManus brothers made her feel at home.

As the movie went on, she couldn’t help but quote it, laugh at it, and gasp at it, even though she’d seen it many times in the past. A few minutes before the fight in the O.K. Corral, Noah stood and stretched.

“I’m off ta bed, boiys. Ye’ll lock up?”

“Aye, Da,” Connor said and Noah left without another word. He moved to take Noah’s spot and let Megan sit on the couch. But she wrapped a hand around his ankle before she could stop herself.

“No,” she pleaded softly, “don’t move. I’m fine where I am.” She didn’t have to look up to see the look Murphy and Connor were giving each other. She could always tell when they were having one of their silent conversations; she wasn’t sure how she knew, she just always knew. 

It was the first time she initiated contact with either of them and it was bound to go noticed. But in an instant, she decided that if she was going to break the promise she made to herself, she might as well do it thoroughly. She laid her head down on Connor’s knee, just as she wrapped her left arm around Murphy’s legs. Both brothers accepted and leaned into her contact. None of them spoke a word, but she knew it was crossing a line. She knew it but she couldn’t cross back over it. 

She fell asleep that way, resting her head on Connor’s knee, arm still wrapped around Murphy, hours later when the movie was close to the end. She was vaguely aware of Connor’s voice close to her ear.

“C’mon, lass, tha movie’s over. Let’s get ta bed, aye?”

“Hmm,” she blinked her eyes, trying to bring the room into focus. She raised her head and let go of Murphy. “Yeah, sorry about falling asleep.”

“No worries, Meg,” Murphy told her. They helped her stand and they all walked back to the bedroom together, but when they reached it, they went in different directions: Megan to her mattress, and Connor and Murphy to their bed.

As Connor turned out the light and Megan was just on the edge of sleep again, she realized, despite her best efforts that she was falling in love with both Connor and Murphy MacManus.


	20. Extreme Measures

“Megan, lass, wake up,” Connor had to shake her before she finally opened her eyes. When he saw that she was awake, he spoke again, “We’ve got ta go lass, we’re runnin late. We fixed yer breakfast and lunch. Is there anythin’ ye need before we lock tha door?”

Her eyes focused immediately and she jumped up from the floor. “Give me just one second,” she called as she ran out the door. Connor and Murphy followed her down the hall and to the laundry room. They watched as she grabbed the basket and pulled the clothes from the dryer into it as fast as she could. Then she scurried back down the hall, almost running them over in the process. 

Then she sat back down on her mattress with their laundry, Connor realized, and looked up at them, her eyes bright.

“Ok, go ahead, I’ll see y’all tonight, have a good day,” she smiled at them. Connor felt his breath disappear from his body. The sight of her, being eager to fold their laundry, being locked in their room, after doing it for two months, it suddenly felt wrong on a very basic level. She took care of them, she had given them her word that she wouldn’t run. Hadn’t she proven time and time again that she was loyal to them?

“Connor,” Murphy’s voice was the only thing that could possibly break through his thoughts in that moment. “We’ve got ta go, brother.” He didn’t understand what had happened but he could feel the shift in his brother; but the way it happened, so fast, he couldn’t help but worry. “Connor,” he said again and this time he grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him from the doorway. “We’ll see ye tanight, Meg,” he smiled at her and then closed and locked the door and turned back to Connor. “Connor, what tha fuck is wrong with ye?” But his brother still didn’t focus on him. So he had to go to extreme measures. “Connor!” He yelled as he slapped his twin’s face. 

“Murphy what tha fuck?”

“No, Conn, what tha fuck is wrong with you? Ye were staring at Megan like a fuckin’ moron.”

Connor stalked away from his brother, but it was really so Megan wouldn’t overhear their conversation. Murphy followed him out of the apartment and down the stairs.

“Conn, slow tha fuck down!”

Connor jogged to the alley between apartment buildings and kicked a metal garbage can. Trash flew everywhere but Murphy ignored it. He grabbed Connor by his jacket lapels and threw him up against the wall.

“Connor tell me what’s wrong!” He yelled in his brother’s face. To his shock, Connor hung his head and took in deep, shuddering breaths, trying to stop tears from falling.

“We never should have kept her. We should have trusted her from the start and let her go,” he said, all the misery in the world lacing his voice.

“Conn, what-“

“We can’t keep her locked up like this. She doesn’t deserve it. It’s wrong, Murphy, it’s wrong.” He finished looking Murphy in the eye.

“Ye want ta let her go?” Murphy asked, feeling the world fall out from under his feet. “Jus’ let her leave us?”

Connor let his head fall back against the brick as he thought about Megan walking out of their lives forever. “If she leaves us, Murph, I’ll learn to deal with it. It’ll hurt like fuckin’ hell but I know if I have to lock tha’ bedroom door one more day….” he shook his head unable to finish. But he looked his brother in the eye again and tried to convey all the emotions he couldn’t voice.

And Murphy understood. If they truly cared for her, they had to trust her. It was killing Connor to see her locked up every day, knowing it was at their hand, because of their selfishness. They wanted her to stay because she wanted to stay, not just because they didn’t want to lose her. No person was meant to be locked up like that, but Megan especially didn’t deserve it.

“Alright, Conn,” Murphy agreed with his brother. “Tanight, weel tell her.” He felt a tightness in his chest. It was a huge risk, but not the kind they had worried about two months ago. This risk wasn’t Megan going to the cops; it was Megan walking out of their lives, and possibly leaving a huge hole in both of their hearts.

 

It was an agonizingly long day for the brothers. Once they made their decision, they were determined to follow through with it, but that didn’t mean that it hurt any less. As the day drug on, they both became despondent, feeding off of each other’s worry. As much as they didn’t want to admit it, they had fallen, and fallen hard, for their beautiful little captive. Murphy was hesitant to use the word love; Connor was the only person he truly loved in this life. But he had to admit that, if Connor was the most important person to him, then Megan was a very close second. And he knew Connor felt the same way. 

Once again, Mass did not help ease their heartache and they both avoided confession. It wasn’t wise, and it was very much out of character for them, but they couldn’t put off seeing her any longer. As much as they dreaded the moment, they hated not knowing even more. Her answer would be her answer and there was nothing they could do about it. 

It was with heavy hearts and feet that they climbed the stairs to their apartment. The door was unlocked which meant Noah was home. They walked through the door and saw him sitting on the couch, flipping through the tv, but there were no other sounds in the apartment.

“Where’s Megan?” Connor asked as he and Murphy hung up their coats and rosaries.

“In the bedroom,” Noah answered stiffly and he pierced his sons with a stare that concerned the both of them. “I wanted to talk to ye both about tha’ girl.” He stood and walked to the entry of the hallway, preventing them from walking down it to release her. 

Connor frowned and Murphy crossed his hands over his chest.

“Da, let us through,” Connor said. “She’s probably hungry.”

“I don’t really care,” Noah said. “The two of ye have gotten entirely too close to her. She’s not yer friend she’s yer prisoner, and ye both seemed ta have forgotten et.”

Connor and Murphy both felt their anger rising. The plan they had agonized over all day was being ruined by a source they hadn’t anticipated. It took them all of two seconds to realize that Noah was not going to allow them to let her out of the bedroom during the day. And it infuriated both of them.

“What happens between us and Megan is none of yer fuckin’ business!” Connor’s voice was rising quickly.

“Yer my sons, ye are my business. And ye seem ta have forgotten that that girl can ruin us. She’s prob’ly jus’ bidin’ her time. Ye know nothing about her and yer too trustin! Fer all ye know she could be trickin’ ye into a false sense of security. She’s prob’ly jus’ waitin’ fer an opportunity to take advantage-“

“Ye fuckin’ say another word and not even Connor will be able ta save ye,” Murphy threatened. And Noah did stop, Murphy only gave one warning.

“Ye know we value yer opinion, Da,” Connor said calmly. But he wasn’t looking at his father and his tone was laced with warning. “But Murph and I have already decided to let her have access to the apartment when we’re gone. If she leaves, et’s a risk we’re willin’ ta take.”

“Ye’ve gone insane!” Noah thundered. “Both of ye! Yer willin’ ta throw everythin’ away fer wha’? A pretty piece of ass who-“ but that was all he was able to say.

Murphy’s restraint broke, just as he said it would, and he jumped on his own father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so late, and sorry to deliver even more bad news. I need to step away from this fic for a little while. I have 26 chapters completed and I'll post them over the next few days, but it's not finished and I'm incredibly stuck. Instead of forcing the words, I'm going to take a break and come back to it in a little while to see if I can get the creative juices flowing. Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read this story. It's been a work in progress for over three years and I don't plan on abandoning it.


	21. Your Word Means Nothing

It was getting late and Megan was getting anxious. She never put a clock in the bedroom, but she knew it was past six and still the brothers hadn’t come home. She wondered if maybe they had to go to evening Mass; it happened every once in a while and she knew they had been running late that morning.

For the thousandth time that day, her mind went back to Connor’s face when they left that morning. He looked at her like she had three heads and she didn’t understand why. Was it because of the way she clung to them during the movie the night before? That was the only thing that was different but she didn’t understand what it meant. She knew she shouldn’t have done it, but it felt wonderful at the time. She felt safe between them, she felt whole. 

She heard the front door of the apartment open and her heart beat faster. She waited with barely contained happiness for Connor to open the door and to see their faces. But it didn’t happen. The seconds ticked by, then the minutes. They had never made her wait this long. Every day was the same. She would hear the front door open and seconds later they would unlock the bedroom door, all smiles and questions about her day. But time kept moving on. She sat down on their bed, confused and concerned. She heard the tv turn on and someone sit heavily on the couch. It clicked then, that Noah must have beaten his sons home. 

In the past, he would have let her out himself, but recently….Megan shook her head. She knew it was coming. Noah had been watching her and the brothers too closely. She knew he didn’t approve of their friendship, knew he didn’t trust her. It seemed that he was taking the opportunity to keep her out of the way so that he could confront Connor and Murphy about it.

She stood up from the bed and started pacing. Whatever was going to happen wasn’t going to end well, she knew that instinctively. Connor’s behavior was too strange this morning and Murphy…..she shook her head, Murphy could become a loose canon in a matter of seconds. 

Her head snapped to the bedroom door when the front door opened. She heard Connor and Murphy’s voices. Then she heard Noah too. They were arguing, Connor was starting to yell. She could hear Noah yell back. Murphy interrupted him and while she couldn’t hear every word, she knew whatever he was saying wasn’t good. When he was angry, Murphy always gave one warning before his temper finally broke and she knew Noah was hearing his one and only warning.

But it did no good. After Connor said one last thing, Noah started yelling again. She distinctly heard him call her a pretty piece of ass but his words were cut off. She heard a fist on flesh and knew it was Murphy. She ran to the door and tried in vain to open it.

“Connor! Murphy! Stop!” She pulled at the doorknob, making the door rattle in its frame. She called their names over and over as she heard the struggle in the hall. Then she started pounding her fists on the door. “Connor! Stop him!” She screamed, knowing that unless Connor restrained his brother, Murphy could do some serious damage to Noah. “Murphy! Stop! Please! Please stop, Murphy! Connor! Murphy!” She drew air into her lungs and screamed the last thing she expected to come from her mouth. “Murphy, please stop! Do it for me! Please!” She didn’t like Noah, it was true, but she didn’t want him hurt. To her utter amazement, the movement in the hallway stilled. She pressed her head to the door.

“Murphy,” she said firmly, “let me out.” She told Murphy to do it in the hopes that Connor could get their father away from his brash twin. And it worked. She heard the lock snap and the knob turn. She backed away from the door as it opened, revealing a breathless Murphy. His hair was soaked with sweat and was stuck to his forehead. His nose was bloody and his knuckle was split. 

“Murphy,” she said sadly. She took a step to him. “Are you ok?”

“Aye,” he answered, not looking at her. She grabbed his bloody hand and brought it up to look at it. It wasn’t swollen, just cut. She slid her fingers through his and pulled him to the bathroom. She washed the blood from his hand and wet a rag to clean the blood from his face. He stayed completely still while she tended to his wounds, no words spoken between them, just soft, healing touches. He wouldn’t look her in the eye and she knew he could feel her disappointment. Even if he and Connor were in the right, using his fists was not the way to solve the issue. When she was finished, she grabbed the first aid kit, Murphy’s uninjured hand and pulled him to the living room.

Connor and Noah were sitting at the kitchen table. Noah had a cut on his cheek and a goose egg appearing under it. She sighed and went to the fridge, gathered up a bag of ice and went back. Noah said nothing as she carefully put a bandage over the cut and then handed him the ice.

“Is that the only place?” She asked Noah. He only nodded in reply. “Connor?”

“‘M fine, lass.”

“Is everyone calm enough for me to make dinner?” She asked.

“Dinner needs ta wait,” Connor replied. “Sit down,” he point her to her usual seat beside Noah and Murphy sat beside his brother. “Murph and I have decided that et’s time ye have tha apartment during tha day.”

“You mean,” she could barely get the words out, “you mean, I don’t have to stay in the bedroom anymore?”

Before Connor could answer her, they all heard Noah mutter under his breath, “This is fuckin’ ridiculous.”

Connor sighed in frustration, “Obviously, Da doesn’t agree with our decision. He doesn’t trust ye to stay in the apartment, and we can’t jus’ turn the lock around like we did on the bedroom door, eh?”

“Please,” she spoke directly to Noah, “I won’t leave. I gave Connor and Murphy my word-”

“Yer word means nothing to me,” Noah cut her off. “There is nothing stoppin’ ye from walkin’ out that door and sellin’ us all out to the cops, the mob, and God knows who else!”

“Then what will it take?” She asked. “To prove to you, that I won’t leave. That I won’t betray you.”

This brought Noah up short. She could tell that he was expecting her to continue to plead her case, but she also knew that words were useless when it came to Noah. He would be convinced by her actions and her actions alone. If he would just give her the chance to prove herself she would gladly do so. Because aside from the practical reasons, she couldn’t leave Connor and Murphy. Her life was too intertwined with theirs. She would never, could never betray them, let alone leave them. She was meant to be right where she was. If she couldn’t admit the depth of her feelings for the brothers, she could at least admit that to herself.

Noah was considering her words with great thought. No one spoke for several minutes as she, Connor and Murphy watched Noah’s brain whir with thoughts. He never took his eyes of Megan the whole time, and though she was scared, she held his gaze. Finally he broke the contact, stood, and walked to his room. She looked at Connor, then at Murphy in confusion. None of them spoke, but she could tell that they were just as confused as she was.

Noah came back moments later, but didn’t sit down. He tossed something silver on the table and all of their eyes fell to the pair of shiny cuffs that had landed in front of them.

“No!” Connor jumped up so quickly that his chair clattered to the ground. But Megan was confused.

“Ye wear these-” Noah started.

“No!” Connor shouted again.

“On yer ankles,” Noah continued as those Connor hadn’t spoken, but Connor kept up his protests.

“Ye fuckin’ take those away-”

“Fer a week-”

“Like hell she will!”

“And ye stay in the apartment-”

“I swear ta God-”

“And don’t try to escape-”

“I will fuckin’ end you!”

“Then ye have my trust,” Noah finished. Megan looked from Connor to Noah, completely lost as to why Connor was so angry. She considered Noah’s offer; it didn’t really seem that unreasonable, and if it meant she could finally come out of the bedroom during the day….

“Ok,” she told Noah.

“No!” Connor cried. “Over my fuckin’ dead body, Megan!”

“Connor,” she said calmly as she stood to get face to face with him, to reason with him. “It’ll be ok. If this is what he needs to trust me? It’s only a week, it’ll be worth it in the end.”

“Ye’ve no idea what yer agreeing to,” he clenched his jaw.

“Connor,” she tried again, “please. I need to do this. I need to get out of that room. I’ll do anything.”

“Aye, that’s wha’ a fuckin’ whore would say.” 

His words froze her heart, she lost her breath, and she saw red all at once. Before she knew what she was doing, her palm connected with Connor’s cheek, the crack resounding throughout the room. The tears fell out of her eyes quicker than a breath and she turned and ran to the bedroom, unable to hold back her sobs. She heard feet behind her and she ran faster. She didn’t stop once she reached the bedroom, she continued to the only sanctuary that was available. She closed and locked the bathroom door, but not before she saw Connor fly towards her, red cheek and horrified expression on his face. She sank to the floor and sobbed. His words hurt more than she ever wanted to admit. She felt betrayed; that even after all this time, he still saw her that way.

“Megan!” He rattled the knob, but it wouldn’t give.

“Go away!” She screamed at him, the words garbling around her sobs.

“Megan, please!” He pounded on the door. “I’m so sorry. Megan please, open the door!”

“Leave me alone!” 

“C’mon, brother,” Murphy’s calm voice floated through the door.

“Murph, I-” 

“Connor,” Murphy’s voice left no room for argument. “Ye need ta let her be. The damage is done, brother.”

“No,” Connor’s voice was strangled, like he was holding back sobs. “Megan, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“C’mon.” And Megan could almost see Murphy pulling Connor gently out of the bedroom. When she was sure she was finally alone, she let the grief take her. This pain hurt like no other. Not when she realized they weren’t going to let her go, not the first day she was locked in their bedroom, and not the day she learned of Cody’s relapse. Nothing else could compare. There was no pain like Connor MacManus breaking her heart.


	22. Punishing an Angel

“Connor, ye need ta let her be. The damage is done, brother.” He knew the words weren’t comforting ones, but he had to get Connor away from the bathroom door. Megan needed some time alone and she couldn’t get it if Connor was smothering her with apologies that even he knew wouldn’t be enough.

“No,” Connor was trying so hard not to cry, and failing so miserably. “Megan, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Murphy grabbed his brother’s arm and started pulling him out of the room. Connor didn’t even struggle. He knew Murphy was right, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave. He pulled him down the hall and into the living room. Noah was sitting at the kitchen table, bracing for another fight. Murphy felt Connor tense under his hand. With his own anger completely controlled, he could tell Connor was quickly losing control of his.

“C’mon, brother,” Murphy pulled Connor to the door, handed him his peacoat, rosary, cigarettes, and a lighter and all but pushed him out the door. “Take a walk,” he told him. “Let me talk to Megan."

“Murph-”

“I know, Conn. I know,” he put his hand to Connor’s stinging cheek, not caring that their Da was watching him. “And I’m gonna tell her, but ye can’t be there. She won’t listen to me if all she’s focused on is how angry she is at you.”

“Murphy,” Connor leaned his forehead on his brother’s “what have I done?”

“Give me a chance, Conn. Don’t ye trust me, brother?”

“Aye.” Connor took a deep breath and stepped away from his brother. As he opened the door, he glared at Noah. Murphy knew, if looks could kill, they’d be burying their Da right then. “This is all yer fault,” he said and then he slammed the door once he had walked through it. 

Murphy sighed and ran his hand across his face.

“Murphy-” Noah started.

“Ye need ta stay out o’ this,” Murphy turned to face him. “Ye’ve done enough damage tanight. Do not go after him and leave me be. I need ta try to smooth things over with Megan.” He walked away without giving Noah a chance to answer. Once he was in the bedroom, he closed the door quietly. He could hear Megan sniffling in the bathroom; she was still crying but at least she seemed to have her sobs under control. He walked up to the door, took a deep breath, and knocked softly.

“Megan?”

“Leave me alone.”

“It’s Murphy.”

“No shit. I said leave me alone.”

“Connor’s not here. Please open the door. I wanna talk ta ye.” She didn’t say anything. “Please, Meg.”

There was a beat of silence and then thankfully, mercifully, she opened the door. Her face was red and her eyes were swollen. Tears rolled down her cheeks. He held out his hand and she took it, another good sign. He pulled her to the bed, sat down, and patted the spot beside him. She sat and broke the silence.

“Where is he?”

“I made him go for a walk. He’s got a whole pack of smokes, so that’ll keep him busy fer a while.”

“Whatever you’re gonna say isn’t gonna change what he said,” she told him harshly.

“I’m not tryin’ ta make excuses fer what he said, Meg. I want ye ta understand why he reacted tha way he did. I want ye ta know why he doesn’t want ye ta put yerself through that, wearing those cuffs.” He waited while she wiped tears from her face. “Will ye listen ta me? Please?” She nodded and he took a deep breath. “Do ye remember hearing the news about ‘The Saints of South Boston?’”

“Yes," she answered. “I was a Sophomore when y’all executed Yakavetta.”

“I mean before that.”

She wrinkled her forehead, thinking. “No, I didn’t keep up with the news a whole lot then.”

Murphy nodded, “Five years ago, almost six now, I guess, we were celebrating Saint Paddy’s at Doc’s, when some Russian thugs walked in.” He continued his story of how they beat up the men who tried to harass Doc that night and she was a great audience. “The next morning, we had barely woken up when they busted down our door. One of ‘em hit Connor with his gun. The other grabbed me while the first one made Connor cuff himself around the toilet in our flat.” He watched as she absorbed his words and he knew she had caught the key word. “Have ye ever noticed the scars around Connor’s wrists?”

“No,” she shook her head for emphasis.

Murphy nodded and continued. “The Russian told Connor that he had planned on killing him, but he decided to kill me instead.”

“What?”

“Aye. They drug me out of our apartment and down the stairs.” He looked away from her, seeing that morning as though it had happened yesterday. “I could hear him screaming my name all the way down the stairs. I don’t know why they didn’t just shoot me in front of him, but I’m glad they didn’t. It gave Connor time to rip tha toilet out of the floor. He took it out on the fire escape and dropped it on one of the Russians before he jumped down from a fifth story building onto the other one. Connor saved me life tha’ day, almost killing himself in the process. The fall knocked him out, and he twisted his ankle but his worst injuries were on his wrists from those fuckin’ cuffs. There was so much blood; he almost cut himself to th bone. He could have done major damage. He’ll prob’ly have those scars forever. Connor knows first hand how much damage those things can do, Meg. And when tha’ was the only option Da offered ye, I think Connor went jus’ a mite crazy at the thought.”

He finished his explanation and watched her for a moment before he continued. “He shouldn’t a said what he did ta ye. He doesn’t think of ye that way. Neither of us do. Yer a lady, a fuckin’ strong one at that. Not many people would have had the strength to do whate’er it took ta save their brother. Ye and Connor have that in common.” 

She looked at him, with hurt still in her eyes, but he thought that maybe he saw acceptance there as well.

“I’m still pissed at him,” she said.

“And ye’ve every right ta be. But as long as ye think ye can forgive him. Eventually.”

“This doesn’t change my mind, Murphy. I’m still going to do as Noah asks. I promise I’ll be careful, though. And if he can accept the fact that I need to do this, that I have to prove that I’m not going to betray y’all, then maybe I can forgive him.” She looked away from him and her voice was thick. “He hurt me, Murphy. Deeply.” 

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I know, Meg. I just hope you know that he’s hurting as well. And he will until it’s all set right.” She nodded and he sensed that it was time to give her some space. “I’m goin’ ta talk ta Da and then I’m goin’ ta find Connor and bring him home.”

He didn’t wait for her to reply. He stood up from the bed and walked back out to the living room. Noah was still sitting at the table.

“She won’t change her mind. She’ll do as ye ask,” he told his Da. “But I have some conditions.”

“Go on,” Noah said. 

“Four days. Tomorrow, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.”

“I said a full week-”

“And I said four days!” Murphy roared. “Ye’ll not push Connor any further than ye already have. Ye want yer test, these are tha conditions. Ye either follow them or ye can get out.” Noah didn’t say anything so Murphy continued. “Yer ta leave the key in the safe evera day, so that Connor and I can take them off as soon as we get home. And….” he took a breath, “Only Connor puts them on her.”

Noah opened his mouth to protest, but Murphy stopped him. “Connor puts them on her. Accept it or get out. I’m going ta find Connor. Leave Megan alone.” He slipped his rosary over his head and put his peacoat on. “Jus’ understand something, Da. Yer punishin’ an angel fer wantin’ ta spread her wings. I hope ye can sleep tanight, with that on yer conscience.” And with that he left the apartment to look for his beloved, hurting brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am slowly working on this story, but I have no idea when I'm going to update again. For those of you interested in this story, your comments and kudos give me life and inspiration to continue. Thank you so much to everyone who has read, left kudos, and/or commented!


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